Little Nordic
by Blackened Ink
Summary: Amalia knew her mother and father weren't her parents biologically. Especially when they shouted and screamed that they should never have picked her up. Abused, beaten and rejected, the four year old runs away and bumps into group of men. They call each other countries, why? Will they help her or leave her to die, or by found by her family? (Cover by me!)
1. November 29

**Little Nordic**

 _November 29_

* * *

Amalia didn't know what the term love meant. It was something warm, that she knew, but otherwise, she was clueless. Never in her life did she remember feeling loved, cared for, or wanted. She was cold, alone, hopeless, and young. The small girl had no voice to speak up and no power to stop those negative feelings she was tired of.

Abused and rejected at the tender age of two and a half, going through a long year and a half of torture, little four year old Amalia was scared, crying silently. Her father had just gotten home and when he noticed dinner not on the table, he began yelling at her mother. Her mother retaliated with her own angry shouts. Things were thrown, words were said and furniture was destroyed. She wasn't quite sure what had happened that made her parents so angry. She only knew they took it out on her.

"Bitch! Get your useless, little ass in here!" her father yelled for her. She knew it was for her, she hadn't been called her real name for a long, long time.

Shuffling into the kitchen, she kept her head down. "Y-Yes, father?"

"Why didn't you help your mother with dinner, you lazy, fat ass child?" he demanded with a sneer, hovering over her little form. In reality, she was thirty pounds underweight, highly malnourished and looked as sickly as an old woman in her 90s.

"Moth-Mother told me to go and-"

"Oh, did she now? Well you don't go and do whatever while she does all the work, you got that?" he spat, alcohol blowing in the girl's face, causing her to gag in disgust.

"Y-Yes sir."

She received a smack to her cheek and was lifted by the front of her three day old shirt. Whining softly, she struggled in his arms as tears seeped down from her light blue eyes. She sobbed lightly then screamed when her back collided with the floor. Next came the belt from around his waist, along with the insults.

After a long round of whipping, Amalia fell with exhaustion and her father grew hungry. Of course, she would get scraps as per usual.

Looking up, she noticed the door unlocked. Turning to look at the kitchen table, her father had his back to her as her mother was still by the stove. Both of them oblivious.

Seizing the opportunity, she struggled to stand and quickly stumbled to the door. The last thing she heard before the door slammed shut was her father screaming threats and insults at her back. She was never going back.

She had nowhere to turn to. No family relations, no grandparents or aunts or uncles. No brothers or sisters or cousins. No one to help her.

With it being about a month to Christmas and the snow falling heavily that year, Amalia trudged in the cold, numbing snow with bare feet and only leggings and a long sleeve shirt. Her nose was red as a cherry and her fingers weren't moving at her command. The only light she had was the holiday lights on houses and the occasional lamp post. She lived in a good neighborhood, middle class family with children of all ages and wonderful couples. None had known of the devastation and pain she went through every day. None of them questioned or called the police.

Teeth chattering, bones shaking and consciousness dimming, the four year old struggled to find help. She tried screaming, but her jaw wouldn't stay still for her to say anything and the cold was crawling down her throat.

Suddenly, she heard arguing.

"I told you no!"

"Why not?"

"Yea, why not? What harm will calling him that do?"

"Harm my pride."

"That's a bit dark."

"Have you seen this guy's brother?"

"True."

Two voices continued, the other two remaining silent. Amalia tired to open her ice crusted eyelids, but the shuddering wind didn't approve. She stood like a statue in half a foot of snow.

"Both of you shut up - Is that a little girl?"

"Dude, I think it is!"

"Catch her before she falls!"

Amalia felt the fall, but she didn't feel the catch until something really warm was wrapped around her body. She let her teeth clatter loudly, cuddling into the wonderful warmth.

"Berwald, why did you take your coat off? Mathias could've."

"She was freezing," a new voice replied from above her, mumbly and hardly understandable. She felt the warm vibrations from his chest and nuzzled closer, not caring if he was a stranger. He was a nice stranger.

"She's really cold."

"She's not wearing much."

"Who dresses their kid like that? She doesn't smell good either."

"Mathias!"

"What? It's true!"

"Doesn't mean you should say such rude things!"

"Guys, we should get her inside."

"But where are her parents?"

"Maybe she doesn't have any."

"Or she's abused."

"Why- Oh my. Look at all those scars and bruises."

"And burns. Maybe her parents did do this."

"Give her to me."

Amalia whined as quietly as possible as someone else took her in their arms. They were buff and tall, similar to the other person, except he was practically bouncing with energy.

"We should take her home."

Amalia's eyes shot open, then she stiffly sat up. "No!" she shouted, then began to cough with the intake of cold sliding down her throat. A large hand patted her back. "You-You c-can't take me home! D-Don't take me b-back there!"

"Woah woah, calm down, _pieni._ We'll take you to our house for now and figure everything out tomorrow," one cheery voice said. Amalia looked over, clutching at the man, who was holding her, shirt in her fist, and saw a short, blond man beam up at her with a smile. He was kind and comforting, a gentle soul. He wore a white and blue striped scarf and a black winter coat.

Amalia shivered, burrowing further into the large jacket wrapped around her. Feeling in her toes and fingers were coming back slowly.

"Question is whose house will she stay at?" the man carrying her questioned.

"I vote my house! It's warm and I have many spare rooms," the happy man offered.

"But not enough for all of us."

"It can't be Norge's. He only had three rooms."

"Nor Sve's."

"Or Emil's."

"Dan's is too messy…"

 _"Hej!"_

"Oh, what about the mansion?"

"We haven't been there since Emil was a kid. It could be infested."

"Or haunted."

" _Dan_."

"Just saying."

"The mansion is the only place we can all stay at until further notice. It would be nice to clean the old place out."

"Then it's settled! To the mansion."

Amalia lay listening, her cold, wheezing breaths the only sound she could make. She couldn't put her two cents, but if these men were so generous enough that they began to argue on where to stay with her, all going together, then they were good and could be trusted. She also felt like they were more than strangers. Like she had known them all her short life.

"Oh, I hope she'll be okay…"

"If she's with us, she'll be fine."

She coughed a little, before settling and yawning. Finally, she fell into a sleep.

* * *

When Amalia woke up, she heard the crackling of fire and could feel every bone in her body again. Everything was warm and comforting. Opening her eyes, she realized that it was still dark with only the fire in the fireplace to keep her light. She sat up and pushed off the heavy blanket that was laid across her small body, feeling insanely hot and sweaty through the back of her shirt and leggings. Her short, curly hair stuck up in the air and on her face. She felt refreshed with sleep, but panicked, when she didn't remember what happened last.

Amalia, eyes wide and whimpering, shot off the couch and raced around the downstairs, searching. It wasn't her house, which was good and bad, but it was homey, yet slightly dusty like no one had been there for decades.

She wasn't quite sure how late or early it was, since her parents never sent her to school, and looked out a tall window with a seat. Pressing her face against the cool glass, kneeling on the cushion, she watched the snow fall steadily. Colors of pink and orange were growing to her left as the dark sky began to fade into lighter blues. She knew that meant morning was coming soon.

But what was she to do? She didn't remember much after she ran out of that house. She remembered the biting cold and the numbness, but didn't remember how she fell asleep and made it to the new house she was in. Did someone bring her? Did she walk all the way there? Did she sneak into someone else's house?

She whined slightly at the thought, slipping from the seat and falling on her bum due to her lack of balance.

"Oh, you're awake!"

A cheery voice called from behind her. She jumped with a squeak and turned around, finding a blond haired man. She suddenly remembered him from yesterday. He had been wearing a blue and white scarf and seemed always happy about something. When he went to pick her up, the little girl flinched causing him to back away. He stumbled over an apology and knelt beside her.

"I'm okay, mis'er," she mumbled, shyly, holding her feet and rocking slightly.

A smile grew on the man's face again. "Good. Now, do you want some breakfast?"

She tilted her head, looking up at him. "What do you eat for breakfast?" she inquired, innocent, large eyes staring up at him.

"Well, why don't you come and help me? We'll make some pancakes," he offered, holding out a hand towards her.

Bright blue eyes looked at it skeptically and confused. A pale, skeleton hand reached out and was placed in his warm palm. He grasped it gently and stood. She followed, stumbling in her steps, as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Mis'er, what's your name?" she asked. "I-If I can as-ask."

He grinned, letting go of her hand and going towards the cupboards. "My name is Tino. I didn't quite catch your name either, _pieni_."

"M-My name is Amalia, mis'er Tino," the brown haired girl answered. She looked around the large space, taking in the new looking appliances and realized how this part of the house wasn't as dusty as other parts. Maybe he used some parts of the house more than others. Amalia knew her parents never used the basement or the spare office in their house.

"Tino is just fine, Amalia," he said with a light chuckle, standing on his tiptoes and reaching for something on a tall shelf. He struggled, grunting and jumping to reach for the item.

Suddenly, a very tall and angry man walked into the room from the other door and grabbed whatever Tino needed. The shorter man thanked the other and turned back to their little guest. Amalia was cowering behind the island counter, peeking an eye out at the two, cautiously and curiously. Her body was shaking with fear and her eyebrows were pinched together.

"Oh, it's okay, Amalia. This is Berwald. He may seem scary, but he's actually a softy at heart. Honest," Tino introduced. Berwald simply waved, not saying anything, then went to the coffee machine to start a brew. He was quite amazed that Tino was in such a good mood. He hadn't even had any coffee.

Amalia watched the tall blond for a moment, before racing to Tino's side and clutching his pant leg. He chuckled, before picking up the little girl and setting her on the counter. She tensed at the touch, but calmed when she saw the different ingredients on the countertop.

Throughout the process, she pointed to an object and Tino would explain what it was and why it was in the mix. She looked like she was gobbling up all the information and keeping it safe inside her head. Watching her, Tino noticed the nervous pull at her sleeve, the most populated area of her injuries. He knew she was trying to hide them and not let them see. It appeared that she also did not remember much of last night.

After the pancakes were made, coffee was finished brewing and orange juice was made, Berwald and Tino set up the breakfast table. They quietly worked around each other as Amalia watched from her spot hugging the counter. Tino called up the stairs that the meal was ready, which surprised Amalia because she thought there was no one else in the house. It seemed she was wrong.

A hurried pair of steps, followed by two normal pairs walked down the steps and into the kitchen. A tall man with spiky blond hair crashed into a chair with a smile larger than Tino's. Two others joined, another blond haired man with a sideways cross in his hair and a bored looking expression, and a younger man with whitish hair and a puffin on his shoulder. Each were still in their pajamas, unlike Tino and Berwald. She remembered them from last night too, their faces somewhat familiar before she lost consciousness.

Amalia seemed to have gained the bored looking male's attention because he peeked over the table and raised an eyebrow at her. She ducked behind the counter again.

"Fin… "

Tino looked confused, before turning to look at the little brown haired girl. She looked back at him with one blue eye that he noticed had some white in and was significantly brighter than his own. He knelt down and held out his hand to her. Tiny hand in his, the Finnish man guided her to the table and offered to help her in a seat. She shook her head and climbed up herself, albeit nearly falling once.

Once they were all settled in their seats, going from Berwald at one head to Tino on his left, then Amalia, the spiky haired man, the cross hairclip man, and finally the white haired man to Berwald's right. Amalia ducked in her seat, sinking as best as she could. She didn't want to talk to these strangers, even though she felt like she could tell them anything.

None of them were watching her however, digging into the morning meal of pancakes, eggs, bacon and fish. She gagged slightly at the smell, but the cross hairclip man seemed to be the only one digging into it, along with the puffin. He was also putting a lot of butter on a piece of bread.

The spiky haired man to her left was chowing down like he hadn't eaten anything in days. He occasionally thanked Tino for the meal gratefully, but he was eating like a pig. It caused the fish eating man to pull on the back of his shirt and choke him with his own collar. Amalia sucked in a breath and cowered slightly.

"Don't worry," the white haired man called from across her right. He was still eating as he looked at her. "They do this all the time."

She nodded hesitantly, then quickly looked down at her dirty, mucky feet. Her heart was pounding slightly in her chest, but it wasn't the same fear she got from her parents. It was more anxiety than anything. She was waiting for them to kick her out of their house and tell her to beat it. Tino had been nice, but he definitely had to be doing it to lead her on then make her leave. Why else would he be kind?

"Amalia?" Tino called her attention from next to her. She twisted her head up and saw the confusion on his face. "Why are you not eating? Aren't you hungry?" he asked gently, bending down slightly to reach her height.

She moved her head up and down lightly. "M-Mother and Father never give me a nice meal, mis- uh, Tino," she answered, flicking her eyes back and forth between the ground and his shocked face. Her fingers clutched at the ends of her too big, dirty shirt.

Her bright blue eyes looked up when she heard choking and saw the expressionless man slam his hand against the spiky haired man's back, who began to cough roughly. Her eyes grew as she sat up. "I-I'm sorry!"

"No, no! Amalia, it's okay. Mathias does that a lot. He's a klutz," Tino said, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling nervously. "Listen, it's okay to eat with us. This was made for you."

"Yea, usually we have to fend for ourselves and we don't eat together much," the man, Mathias, added, clearing his throat slightly.

Mouth gaped and brows raised in surprise, she scanned all their faces. Three out of the five said 'Go on, dig in!' The other two looked expectantly at her. Amalia turned back to Tino and nodded. He cheered quietly, took her plate, and placed two pancakes and a small amount of eggs on the side.

"H-How do you eat it?" the brown haired girl asked, picking up the hotcake and playing with it between her fingers.

Mathias chuckled, then leaned over to explain. "You can eat it with anything really. Jelly, butter, syrup, peanut butter-"

"Wha's peanu' butter?" Amalia interrupted, curious to the object he mentioned. She squeaked, shielding her head. "I-I'm sorry!"

" _Hej, hej, lille en_. It's okay. Mm, peanut butter is like roasted peanuts crushed and created into a type of spread that goes on sandwiches and other foods," the Danish man explained.

"I-Is it good?"

"Of course, it is!" Mathias exclaimed, abruptly standing from his seat and rushing over to the cabinet. Amalia hopped up on her seat and watched from over the back of her chair. "Good thing we went to the store before coming here!" his voice echoed from inside the food storage. "Aha!" He emerged with a round container with a brown mixture inside. "We'll put some on a little piece. In case you don't like it."

Amalia nodded, shifted back around and allowed the crazy man to lather some on a ripped piece of pancake. "Do I just eat it like that?" she inquired, eyes gazing up at the man.

"Yup! Go on, dig in!"

The four year old grabbed the piece of fluffy goodness and took a good, quiet bite. The others were watching as they ate, amused by the connection the two made so quickly. Amalia was warmed up to Mathias, even trusting him with the food she ate.

A sound emerged from her throat, something she hadn't heard in a long while, as the peanut butter stuck to the roof of her mouth and she tried to get it off. Her mouth smacked together and a giggle made the five men happy. Mathias looked triumphant because he had given her something she actually liked.

"Thank you, mis'er Mathias," she said, bowing her head slightly. She flinched lightly at the hand ruffling her knotty hair, but the calloused, gentle hand didn't pull away.

"Mathias is just fine. Amalia, right?" the Danish man inquired as he knelt down next to her seat. She nodded. "It's a beautiful name."

Her cheeks heated up at the compliment, not having been given one at all and she definitely wasn't used to the praising. She stumbled over her words and heard amused chuckles from three of them.

The rest of breakfast went smoothly, but Amalia only ate half her pancake and a tiny bit of eggs. For not having much in her stomach on a daily basis, they were surprised by how much she fit. She wanted more, but Tino had warned her that she would get really ill if she did. He promised her some grilled cheese for lunch, along with hot chocolate. Both of which she had no clue what they were.

Amalia learned that the white haired man's name was Emil and his brother, who wore the cross hairclip, was Lukas. The five of them grew up together and, even with their bouts of hatred and distancing, they remained friends. Emil was the youngest, and was still treated like a kid being still only nineteen, while Berwald was the eldest at twenty-three. The house they were at was shared amongst the five, along with their many other friends, they explained when she asked. They said that there were times when their friends visited and stay at the mansion, but with all the dust, it was a long time ago. Now, they go to other houses, never theirs.

Sitting on the couch between Mathias and Lukas, Amalia was wrapped in the blanket she woke up in. She was freezing, gaining the warmth from the blanket and two mens' natural body heat. The physical touch was a new thing to her, she was a bit hesitant when Mathias had offered.

Tino walked in from cleaning up breakfast and stood watching as Mathias and Lukas talked and Emil was teaching Amalia how to play rock, paper, scissors. She smiled lightly when she won. The Finnish man was contently smiling at them, until he noticed how dirty Amalia's hair and skin was. A bath was needed.

"Amalia?" The little girl peeked her head up instantly, flinching slightly, but remained keeping eye contact with Tino. "Do you want to take a bath to get all that filth off you? I'm sure we can find some of Emil's old clothes for you to wear until we get you some," he suggested, kneeling down next to where Emil was sitting in front of the couch.

"Um, okay," she stuttered, emerging from the blanket and taking his hand once again that day. He squeezed it lightly, before leading her upstairs to a bedroom with a bath attached. She was amusing herself by thinking about how many rooms they had. The hallway was long and there were many doors. She thought it would be funny if a circus act stayed there. All the elephants and tightrope walkers, clowns and lion tamers.

She stood next to Tino as he prepared her bath in the decent sized white tub. He rolled up his sleeves and checked the temperature multiple times before clogging the drain. He got up and retrieved a few towels, along with some of Emil's old clothes Lukas found in his closet. Some bandages too, those wounds would not be healing properly without necessary care.

"Okay, Amalia, I'm going to help you get cleaned up, alright?" Tino asked for confirmation, kneeling down on the bathroom carpet by the tub again.

"Uh, d-does that mean…" she trailed of, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.

The Finnish man smiled gently and reassuring. "Yes, you will have to be naked, but don't worry. I'm not going to judge you on your battle scars. Oh! Here," he said, tugging his shirt up and showing two, one-inch scars on his right side. "Here's one of my battle scars. Mathias wasn't very happy when I left with Berwald a few years ago. He actually fought us, fist to fist. Of course, Mathias feels guilty about it because he didn't mean to hurt a friend, of course. But we all have them, so it's okay."

Amalia bit her lower lip and nodded after a moment. Tino pulled her shirt over her head first and didn't react to the many bruises, scars, burns and fresh cuts along her would-be flawless pale skin. He could count each rib and her collarbone was puckering out with her hipbones. He also noticed a necklace around her neck. It was silver and was engraved with two names on it. He read it and his sea blue eyes widened with shock. It was something he'd discuss later with the others. For now, he'd let it go and allow the girl some peace away from all her adding troubles. He tugged off her pants then picked her up and settled her slowly down in the warm water.

The four year old gasped at the feeling, fingers twisting in Tino's sleeve as he set her down.

"Does it feel nice?" he inquired, mindful that he wasn't burning her.

She shook her head. "N-No, it's really nice, Tino. Mother al-always bathed me in cold water," she informed, splashing a bit of water. Her back hunched over, body looking as though it would cave in on itself at any given moment.

Tino sighed, rubbing his face exhausted, before grabbing some shampoo and tackling the matted, tangled brown curly hair on the girl's head. She didn't whine, cry out, or grab Tino when he pulled too hard accidentally or when it hurt. She sat silent with her eyes shut tight and her fists clenched.

About forty-five minutes later, Amalia was wrapped in a fluffy towel as her temporary caretaker dried her hair and body. She felt fully clean for once, having actual soap and hair product to wash out her hair and her body with.

"Most of Emil's old clothes should fit you," Tino mused, finishing off last second drying, then wrapping and placing some bandages on new and bad wounds. He then slipped on a white dress with a blue little bow on the front. It was slightly big on her bony body, sleeves coming to her fingertips and the hem coming to her knees, but it was comfortable and would do until they could go shopping.

"Thank you, Tino," Amalia whispered her gratitude, rubbing one drooping, blue eye as her other hand clutched the sleeve.

The blond man chuckled. "You're welcome, _pieni._ Come on, I think a nap is an order and I have a few things to discuss about with the others," he said, picking up the little girl with her permission and carrying her out the bathroom.

"Tino? Why are you so kind to me? I didn' do anything for you," Amalia said, tilting her head to portray her confusion.

"Because someone like you, who is very young, should not be treated the way your parents have, or so I have heard so far. I simply want you to feel wanted, Amalia. The others agree with me," he answered, laying her down on the bed in the room attached to the bathroom. Amalia sat up. "What's wrong?"

"Why are you giving me this bed?"

"Because you need to sleep…?"

"Father said a rat like me has to sleep on the floor," she explained. Her icy eyes filled with tears suddenly and a little sniffle was given. "B-But I don't wanna be a rat anymore."

Tino sat down and pulled her into his lap, rubbing comforting circles on her back. She tried pulling away, confused as to what he was doing, but the steady movements made her grow sleepy. She hiccuped as she placed her head on his shoulder and let the few remaining tears fall down. She was upset, but the man she had only met yesterday was taking care of her as though she was his own daughter. He was giving her food, a bed, a bath and his friend had even made her laugh.

"It's alright, Amalia. Everything's going to be okay. We'll take care of you," Tino's voice drifted back and forth as she grew sleepy. She hiccuped, hands around his neck clutching at the fabric as she buried her face in his shoulder. She drifted and slumped against the Finnish man.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Finnish_

Pieni - Little One

 _Danish_

Hej - Hey

Lille en - Little One

* * *

 **Most translations will be easy to figure out at first if the Nordics are talking to Amalia, using nicknames like little one or sweetie or something. I will be using their human names for descriptions and whatnot, and their country name when they are verbally directed.**

 **If it confuses you, I do apologize in advance, but for me this is easier to understand, despite the constant change between names. If there is anything I can do to help you, DM me. I do not mind!**

 **I'd also like a Beta, if anyone could help. I have a friend reading the story, but she isn't the greatest so I need a second opinion :)**

 **I hope you enjoyed the story and reviews are always welcomed!**

 **\- Ink**


	2. November 30

**Little Nordic**

 _November 30_

* * *

Amalia woke and rubbed her sleep-crusted eyes, giving a big yawn. She looked around and found herself alone in a bedroom. The one Tino had given to her after her bath. The windows were drawn, keeping the time of day away from her. She crawled out from under the covers and padded over to the door, standing on her tiptoes to reach the knob. The hallway light blinded her for a moment, black spots coating her vision, before she looked up and down the halls. It was quiet, but there were sounds coming from downstairs.

She found the stairs, took a few down before she peeked between the railing bars at the five men. They were sitting around the couches talking. Tino next to Berwald on one, Emil on the single seat, and Lukas on another couch with Mathias sitting next to his feet on the floor.

"We've been over this all night and all morning, but still. How?" Mathias questioned, rubbing his forehead. His usual goofy personality replaced with seriousness. On occasion, during a certain situation, the Danish man could hold a straight face and get down to business. Whatever they were talking about was one of those occasions.

"I don't know," Tino muttered, his one leg bent to his chest. "She had on a necklace that said it in your native language. Perhaps her parents found her there and took her home here. It's merely a theory."

"We should ask her what she knows," Emil said, earning a few angered looks as he continued to pet his puffin. "I get that she could potentially break down, but it's for her safety. If you care about her, you'd do this."

Tino sighed and leaned into Berwald's touch when he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I just never expected her to be one. She's so small and it's so big and magnificent. I don't get it," he commented.

Quiet as Lukas was, he was very observant. He looked up at the stairs and caught eyes with the little girl that was in their care. "She's awake," he announced.

Four other heads turned her way causing her to whimper and shrink. "I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to-"

Mathias smiled, standing from his spot. "It's alright, Amalia," he said, moving to stand at the bottom of the steps. "Come down here. Do you mind if we ask you a few things? We won't pry, there are just a few things we need to know."

Amalia sniffled, but nodded nonetheless and took the stairs one at a time, placing both feet on the step. Once she reached the bottom, Mathias plucked her up into his arms. He grinned widely. "You look absolutely adorable in that," he complimented.

"T-Thanks," she mumbled, ducking her head into his shoulder. He chuckled and sat down next to Lukas on the couch.

"Amalia, are you going to be alright if we ask you a few questions about your, um, parents?" Tino questioned, moving to sit on the edge of his seat. He looked antsy and nervous, not like his cheery self and Amalia didn't like that very much.

Quietly, she shook her head up and down again, settling down with her back to Mathias chest, so she had a view of all of them. "What you wanna know?"

"Do you know anything about your parents relationship with you?" Lukas asked.

Amalia's icy eyes widened slightly, before her tiny fingers began tangling themselves together. "M-Mother and Father say that they found me in the woods. They're not my real mother and father," she answered.

The five men shared a look, before Tino asked a question. "Do you know where they found you?"

She shook her head. "They never say. Only that they shouldn't taken me home with them."

The shorter blond man winced, furrowing his brows. The others were quiet for a moment processing the little amount of information she had given them. Amalia played with the hem of the nightgown she wore, curling her freezing little toes.

After a while of them thinking, she cut the silence with a question of her own, "When are you g-going to t-take me back?"

"You want to go back to that household, Amalia?" Mathias questioned, stunned that she would ask such a question. His hand was steadying her waist as she looked up at him.

Her curls flew around her face as her head moved side to side. "No, but I-I don't want to be a b-burden," she said.

"Where did you hear that?" Emil inquired, raising a single brow.

Amalia's face turned downcast. "Mother and Father call me that and say I'd be one if I ask for other's help."

Lukas stood abruptly from his seat, startling all of them, even causing the puffin to fly up with a squawk and land on Emil's shoulder. The Norwegian man looked at all of them, before declaring, "Amalia will be staying here."

"Wh-What?" said child stammered.

Tino grinned. "Yea, I agree with Lukas. Amalia should stay here with us," he said.

"Same! I think it'd be awesome to have her," Mathias added, giving the girl a reassuring squeeze.

"I third that. It's gotten quite boring lately. Having her around would flare things up," Emil commented, then his puffin said something after him, making Amalia's jaw drop with astonishment. "Yea, the kid should stay."

Tino chuckled, then turned to the Swedish man beside him. "What do you think, Sve?" he inquired.

The cold looking man stared at the shaking little girl before nodding.

"Y-You want to be my f-family?" she asked, the question seeming heavy on her shoulders. It took her by surprise, especially since the idea came from Lukas, who gave her a 'sod off' kind of feel.

She looked at all their faces. Berwald was simply staring, but there was a small amount of ease and welcoming in his eyes, with Tino at his side smiling. The white haired man was watching her curiously and looked as though he accepted her, even if his comment threw her off slightly. Lukas was looking down with soft eyes and Mathias was grinning down at her.

"O-Okay."

"Woohoo!" the Danish man holding her cheered, squeezing her tightly. She tensed, but eased and wrapped her arms around him. "Finally we got a girl in the family."

"Wait, shouldn't we tell her what that necklace means first before anything else?" Emil halted Mathias's celebration.

"Oh yea," Lukas said, then he knelt down in front of the girl. "Do you know what your necklace means, Amalia?"

She nodded. "It says Greenland and my name on it, but I don' know why. Mother and Father never told me."

"The reason why is because that is who you are, Amalia. You are the personification of the country Greenland. It means you are Greenland in itself. It's not just a piece of land on the earth. We are just like you, a country personified. I am Norway, Mathias is Denmark, Emil is Iceland, Tino is Finland and Berwald is Sweden, but it's okay for now to call us our human names. Your parents never said because being a country is very important and to hurt them is a crime in itself. They must've found you in Greenland and knowingly took you back here, to Denmark," the Norwegian explained, slowly and tried not to use such big words. She stared at him and stayed still until he was done.

"I'm a country called Greenland and my parents aren' my parents because I don' have any?" she asked.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we won't be your family," Tino replied.

"Technically, Mathias is her family," Berwald added.

"Yea, remember that trip he took to that island, colonized and came back with nothing?" Emil said.

"I thought I was going to find another country, which I did, but I never found the personification," Mathias explained, looking down at Amalia. "I guess I did in the end."

"So because she's a country, we don't have to go to court for custody or anything right?" Emil questioned.

There was a slim possibility that her founders were going to come looking for her. The slim chance was because they might still want their punching bag, something to take their aggression out on. They didn't want it to happen, but it could've.

"Should we take Amalia to her boss or Mathias's? Do we even take her to them or keep her here until we figure everything else out?" Lukas inquired.

"We should keep her here and take care of her until further notice," Berwald answered.

Suddenly there was scratching at a door in the kitchen. Amalia squeaked and tackled Lukas, wrapping her arms around him for protection. His hand rubbed her spiny back and he held her close as Tino got up from his seat and went to investigate.

All they heard was the door opening and an 'Oopsie!' from the Finnish man. He came back with a white fluffball in his arms. He was smiling sheepishly. "I left Hanata outside too long," he informed, setting the dog down and letting her roam herself.

She seemed to have smelled someone knew and rushed to Lukas and Mathias's couch. She put her front paws on the cushion and let her tail wag as she stared at the little child in the former's arms.

"It's alright, Amalia. It's only the furball," Mathias comforted, picking up the dog and settling her on his lap. Hanata barked once, gaining the little girl's attention. Blue eyes peeked up from Lukas's shirt and watched the animal for a moment.

"Is this a dog?" she murmured, slowly pulling away from Lukas and move in front of the fluffball.

"Yes. Meet Hanata. She's Fin's dog and quite the energetic pup," Mathias said, letting go of Hanata, who began licking Amalia's face. Lukas and Mathias were about to pull them away from each other, but stopped when their newest family member began laughing and hugging the ball of fur.

"She's nice," Amalia complemented, scratching behind the dog's ears.

"Only when she wants to be," Tino said, rolling his eyes at his dog's behaviors.

"She doesn't talk like the puffin, right?" Amalia inquired, just to be sure all things weren't weird in the family.

"No, Hanata only barks. Mr. Puffin could complain all day if he wanted, but mostly stays silent," Emil answered.

"Kind of like Sve," Mathias added.

Berwald rolled his eyes and Tino elbowed him lightly. "He's got a point."

It was then that Amalia's stomach grumbled, calling out the hunger that hadn't been satisfied since yesterday morning. The girl had slept practically all day and all night, waking up at around six in the morning. That was when she found the five talking on the couch.

"It seems breakfast is an order," Tino said, sighing as he picked himself back off the couch and walked into the kitchen again. Berwald following close behind. On their way out, they heard giggles come from Amalia and felt a swell of happiness in themselves.

* * *

 _December 5_

* * *

A few days had passed since Amalia was declared part of the Nordics and she was settling in nicely. The day after they said she was part of the family, Tino and Mathias had gone out to the newest shopping center with Amalia and got her new clothing, a bedspread she liked, and a few toys and coloring books. She hadn't wanted much, since the idea of being a burden still weighed heavily on her, and only got the necessities. Mathias had excused that by saying she would need things to entertain her when they couldn't, such as World Meetings or country crises.

She had also gotten a soft, red and white blanket and after they bought it, she wouldn't put it down. It wasn't a huge blanket you use for bed, but a baby blanket one could carry around if needed. Now at home, you wouldn't see her without it, along with her small bag of coloring books, markers and crayons.

For clothing, she didn't want such girly, frilly clothes they had first seen. Pink wasn't her thing. They got a few pairs of patterned and solid colored leggings, jeans, simple t-shirts, sneakers and two dresses for special occasions. Along with a black winter coat, a red and white striped scarf, and black boots for the harsh winter.

She had her long, uneven hair cut to her neck cleanly, courtesy of Lukas, who had to cut Berwald and Mathias's hair during their Viking days and Emil's when he was a child, and ultimately Tino's.

Amalia had also been told stories about the boys and their younger days, both as Vikings and when the five had first met. The stories ranged from sad to funny, gruesome to sunshine. She loved them all, along with their characters.

* * *

Amalia was sitting at the island counter as Tino was making cookies, stirring the mix in a big bowl with a wooden spoon. They owned electrical appliances, but the Finnish man had said he wouldn't get his muscles if he used them. So he did everything with his hands. While he was doing that, the little girl in front of him was quietly coloring something she drew. Her head on her arm as it laid on the cold countertop. Her face was barely two inches away from the paper.

"What are you drawing, Amma?" Tino asked. He had been trying for a nickname because both Amalia and Greenland were two long names and Amalia was still getting used to being a country called Greenland that she would never answer when called said name. She was liking Amma so far.

"A picture of you and Sve, Uncle Fin," she answered and hadn't realized what she said, until she heard a loud clack. She jumped and saw Tino with large, tearful eyes. His spoon was on the countertop, dripping with dough. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"No… no! It's fine, Amma," Tino said, sniffling as he rounded the top and pulled her in for a hug. "It was just unexpected and I'm really happy. Giving someone a title means they're something special to you. I'm so glad I count."

Amalia giggled and squeezed her arms around his neck. "I love you, Uncle Fin," she whispered.

Tino chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I love you too, _pieni enkeli_."

After that Tino tried really hard not to cry every time she called him 'Uncle'.

* * *

 _December 6_

* * *

Amalia woke up from her nap and coughed, her throat dry and sore. Groggily, she sat up in her bed and slid out from underneath the covers. Fingers between her soft blanket, she drug her feet and the comfort item down the hall, then down the stairs. She walked to the kitchen and saw the sun nearly beginning to set for the day. She still wasn't good with telling time, but knew it was close to dinner.

Though no Tino was in the kitchen making the meal. She peeked out into the TV/family room and found no Emil watching TV with no Lukas reading a book. No Mathias was bugging her, which he normally did after her nap, and no Berwald was reading the newspaper.

She panicked, breath hitching as tears began to fill in her eyes. Her chest felt like it was collapsing as she ran around looking for anyone she knew. The house was too quiet and someone would have told her if they left, leaving a note, but she found none. It frightened her.

"Mathias!" she screamed, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders and keeping it over her head.

"Lukas!" She sunk to her knees in the middle of the family room. The fireplace wasn't on.

"Emi!" She sniffled, caving in on herself.

"Uncle Fin!" The house was still empty, her voice echoing.

"Uncle Sve…" the last name was merely a whisper as her hope broke. After all that leading up, she knew it was going to come. No matter how many smiles or laughs or reassurances, she knew it was going to happen. She knew eventually they'd up and leave her alone in such a big and lonely house without warning. She'd be alone once more. They were liars.

"Amalia?"

The four year old girl turned her head and found a certain tall blond standing there, looking confused, but same angry expression on his face like always. She knew he was confused by the slight tilt of his head. He walked over and knelt down beside the crying girl. "What's wrong?"

Her face twisted, before she jumped into his arms and sobbed into his chest. She stuttered over her words, crying as she explained how she thought they had left her because they didn't want her anymore. That she had been afraid she was alone again.

"We'd never leave you," he assured, holding her close as he stood, hand playing with the back of her hair. "We had a sudden call for a meeting. We didn't want to disturb your sleep."

She smiled and nodded. "I-I get it. I-I'm sorry, I was silly," she muttered, playing with the buttons on his shirt as he carried her down the hall.

"What did you call me?"

She looked up and hummed her confusion. "Call you…?"

"You called me something," he said, not elaborating much of the topic.

"Oh, uh… U-Uncle Sve…?" she smiled sheepishly, afraid he'd have a different reaction than Tino. He was quite the opposite of the emotional, small fellow.

Surprisingly, the Swedish man gave a nearly unnoticeable quirk of the lips and kissed her forehead. "It's okay," he said simply.

Amalia's cheeks reddened and she squirmed out of his arms. She took one of the appendages and tugged him over to the couch, pushing him onto it. She ran to the many cases of movies the Nordics owned and pulled out one she had been wanting to watch. She wasn't sure what it said on the front, but it had action and whatnot so it looked entertaining.

Amalia put the movie in the DVD player and scrambled up on the couch. She sat as close to Berwald as she could and placed her blanket on both their laps. She sunk into the seat, watching the screen with a stoic face. The man beside watched her for a moment before turning his attention to the movie.

Later, when Lukas, Mathias, Emil and Tino got back from the meeting, they found the two on the couch still, but somehow Berwald had ended up with Amalia on his chest clutching her blanket as a bigger blanket covered them. Both were fast asleep and the movie title screen was muted. Both content and at peace.

* * *

 _December 7_

* * *

"Uncle Fin?"

The short blond turned and found a little brown head with icy eyes peek over the countertop, hands gripping the edges. He smiled gently. "What do you need, Amma? Shouldn't you be in bed?" He glanced at the clock, reading 8:23pm. Her bedtime was half an hour ago.

"Do you know where Emil is?" she asked, blinking once at him, not answering his second question.

Tino hummed, tapping his chin with his index. "I think he's up in his room. He said that he was going to videochat with some other countries. I'm sure he'd let you join and introduce a few to you. Go on," he said, shooing her away with his spatula. He was making something sweet again, which would cause Lukas to complain about her gaining a sweet tooth.

" _Tak_!" she cheered, running off out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. Her ever present blanket trailing behind.

Before she opened the door, she politely knocked and waited until Emil gave her the okay or he opened the door. He did the former calling a 'Come in!' with a sigh.

On her one foot, tiptoeing, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. "Big brother Ice, will you tell me a story?" she asked.

Amalia found him at his desk with his laptop open. She saw a few faces on the screen and they moved and spoke, but they were all together, so she couldn't keep up. She heard a few 'Aw! Who is that?' and 'Did you get a new country?' and 'Is she human?' Emil was giving her a look of complete shock. She kept throwing off the Nordics with her new titles, but Tino and Berwald were completely fine with them. Would he be?

"Ice! What are you doing sitting there? Go tell her a story!" a feminine voice shrieked, virtually urging the teen to go.

Emil turned back to the computer and hissed a few words, earning chuckles of amusement. Amalia stood there with a wide, hopeful eyes as she picked at the bandages Lukas had put on after her evening bath. Her blanket was growing sweaty in her palm as anticipation and anxiety welled up in her.

"I-I can come back l-later," she muttered, turning back towards the door.

"Wait, Amma, come back. I'll tell you a story," Emil said, sighing in defeat.

Amalia ran up to him and squeaked in surprise when he picked her up, setting her on his thigh. She looked to the screen of the laptop and found four other faces, smiling, smirking or cooing. There was also a tiny box of them in the corner.

"Big brother, what's that?" she inquired, pointing to the screen.

"It's called Skype. It helps me see and talk to the other countries without having to take a plane to them. There's Hong Kong, or Leon, he's very east of us-"

"Hello," he greeted with a small wave.

"That's Poland, or Feliks, who's south of us-"

"Hello, little girl. You are absolutely adorable!"

"And that's Australia, or Ralph, and New Zealand, or James," Emil introduced, pointing to a small box with two males. One had a bandage on his nose and the other had large curls on the side of his head and a sheep.

"G'evening, little tyke," the man with the bandage said, a thick Australian accent, which was fitting.

"Good evening," James greeted with a smile.

Amalia turned her head back to Emil. "Are these your friends?" she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper, but it wasn't that quiet and all four heard her, chuckling in amusement.

"Yes, sort of," Emil answered. "Now, do you want that story or not?"

Amalia nodded furiously. "Y-Yes, please," she murmured.

The Icelandic boy picked her up, said he'd be back to the other countries, who wished Amalia farewell, then exited the room. He knew it was her bedtime, so he brought her to her own room and tucked her under the covers. He was quite surprised she had come to him of all people for a story. Usually she asked his brother or Mathias for tales from before he was even discovered, about their times as Vikings.

"What do you want a story about, _smá snjókorn_?" he questioned, sitting beside on top of her covers.

"Can I have story about when you were found?" she requested, laying on her side facing him and holding onto his always so warm hand.

He hummed. "I suppose. Odd choice though. Not very entertaining," he warned.

"I don't want exciting. I want happy," the tiny nation answered, yawning slightly with half lidded eyes.

"Alright…"

She fell asleep after he explained his first impressions of all the other Nordics. Both their impressions weren't too far away from the others.

* * *

 _December 8_

* * *

Amalia had been missing since after breakfast. She had gone upstairs, but never came down for lunch and around dinner, no one had seen her. Tino had called everyone down for supper and all arrived except the little girl, who was always so vigorous for the meal.

"Where could she be?" Tino murmured, scratching the side of his head confused.

"She didn't go outside," Lukas said. "And she's not in the basement."

"She's been awfully quiet today," Emil added, holding back Mr. Puffin so he wouldn't start eating without the whole family.

Mathias stood from his seat. "I'll go look for her," he offered. "Eat, before it all goes cold."

"A-Are you sure?" the shortest blond questioned.

Mathias gave a wide smile. "Go ahead. I'll be down with her in a moment," he said, then left the table and trekked upstairs. He walked to Amalia's door and gently knocked. "Amma? You in there?"

He heard a low whimper and raised a brow. He slowly opened the door and took in the dark room with drawn curtains. The bed was made and all toys and books were put away. There was no sign of the little nation and he couldn't see her blanket anywhere. Everything was made so it looked like she hadn't been there. He would've thought that had her bedspread not been on the bed still and her playthings organized in the opened end bed chest.

"Oh little Amma~!" he called in a light voice, surveying the room. "Dinner's ready downstairs. I made chicken and macaroni. Your favorite."

Another noise, one like a whine of pain, sounded from under the bed. He tiptoed over and slowly laid onto his stomach, peeking under the bed skirt. That was where he found the girl, laying with her face down on a pillow, shoulders shaking as she silently cried.

"Hej, Amma. What are you doing down here?" he inquired, tilting his head.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his with an intake of breath. "I-I-I don't de-deserve y-your kindness a-and-"

"Woah, woah, it's okay. Come out from under there and let's chat. One on one. Just you and me," he coaxed, holding a hand out to her.

She sniffled and stared at the extended appendage. It took her a little while, before she crawled out and stood in front of the Danish man. She wasn't too sure if attacking him would be okay, but she did it anyway. She cried and dug her face into his shoulder.

" _Hej_ , it's okay, _lille_ _en_ ," he comforted, holding her close, underneath her bottom and around her waist.

"I-I'm sorry. I d-didn't mean t-to scare y-you, Papa!" she sobbed. "I-I saw them a-and they were really scary an-and-"

"Wait," Mathias interrupted, his voice low and even, like he wasn't too sure what he was supposed to be feeling. "What did you call me?"

Amalia flicked her head up fast and scrambled out of his hold, kneeling on the floor with her nose to the carpet and blanket over her head. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you that! I just-"

She was paused again by a body wrapping around her own. "It's alright, _mi lille engel._ I… I feel privileged to be called that," he choked on his tears, which he tried desperately not to let fall.

The little nation looked up and found the raindrops flooding his eyes, but a large grin dawned his face. She grew concerned. " _Ingen_! Don't cry!" she squeaked, wiping away the oncoming waterfall.

" _Undskyld_ ," he chuckled, amused at her actions. "You are just so precious to me and I never thought I'd receive such an amazing, valuable title. I thought you would've chosen Fin or Ice, but never me."

"But Papa found me, both as a country and a person. Papa was there for me," Amalia assured innocently, settling down between his thighs as he sat criss-cross.

Mathias's face downcasted solemnly. "I wasn't there when your kidnappers hurt you."

Amalia's silvery-blue eyes widened as she put her hands on both sides of his slightly scruffy face. "But Papa here now. Papa won't leave me, right?"

The Danish man grinned. "Never," he promised.

" _God_ ," the little girl giggled.

It had turned out that Amalia was developing paranoia hallucinations due to her fear of the possibility of her so-called parents coming back for her. She was afraid her new family would sell her out and her kidnappers would take her again. The nightmares grew for weeks and doubt started settling in. She tried desperately to believe what the others were saying, but that overwhelming anxiety built up.

It would take time, the Nordics knew, before Amalia was close to perfectly healthy and she wouldn't be so afraid anymore.

* * *

 **Translations**

 ** _Danish_**

Tak - Thank you/Thanks

Ignen - No

Undskyld - I'm sorry

God - Good

Mi lille engel - My Little Angel

 ** _Icelandic_**

smá snjókorn - Little Snowflake (Established nickname to Amalia from Emil)

 ** _Finnish_**

Pieni enkeli - Little Angel

* * *

 **Second Chapter! ^-^ I hope you guys like it. Quick Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Hetalia. I don't have the imagination capable of such a show.**

 **Guest (1): Thank you, thank you. I'm so glad you like.**

 **FairEnough: Thank you so much! Don't worry, I'm hoping to get a chapter maybe every two days? Depending**

 **Guest (2): Aw, it's good to explore something you are hesitant on. Thank you so much for reading and giving your opinion. I hope I don't let you down!**

 **Hey, reviews and suggests would be brilliant, if you have any ;)**


	3. December 4

**Little Nordic**

 _December 4_

* * *

One week later and things were looking up for the better. The Nordics newest family member had somewhat grown out of her shell and spent as much time with them as possible. They tried to work around each other's schedules, due to juggling between looking after their nation and taking care of Greenland. Making sure she knew she felt welcomed and accepted was a key things and they couldn't go flunking the built trust by leaving her in the house alone.

They switched on and off throughout the week, going in a cycle on who would take care of Amalia that day. On Saturdays, they all stayed home.

Amalia had been occupying herself by drawing and adored her own ability to create such images. She had drawn so many pictures that Tino had to get her own corkboard to pin them to. Most were of her and the Nordics, or the Nordics paired together. Such as Tino and Berwald, Lukas and Mathias, and Lukas and Emil. Some were of shows Emil had gotten her hooked on, others were of scenery places Tino described to her.

When she wasn't drawing, she was solving puzzles her newly dubbed Papa got for her. Mathias had discovered her love for solving situations when he was trying to do the morning crossword a few days after she had titled him. She had been eating her breakfast next to him and, boredly, looked over and solved the first sudoku on the page. She wasn't too good with the actual crossword however, being uneducated, but she got a good amount of words when he asked for one she might've known. She would be challenged by Mathias before he left for the day with a new puzzle to solve. She had a dozen or so on her shelves so far. Ranging from problem solvers to mind games to puzzle pieces.

Speaking of titles, when everyone had discovered that Amalia gave each of them a title, they were shocked and amused at the little nation. Especially when she called Emil 'Big Brother', which he would never be caught saying to Lukas, but blushed and smiled when Amalia did.

Everyone was honoured, except a certain Norwegian, who hadn't received one.

"Maybe she's still trying to find out who you are to her," Tino suggested, trying to comfort the seemingly emotionless man. He shrugged and walked out of the room, where his leg was tackled by Amalia. She begged him to tell her a story before she had to go to bed. Which he did without bringing up the previous topic of not having a title. He was acting like it was nothing, when really he was devastated inside. He played it off to the other Nordics, who had pestered him with excuses he didn't want to hear.

* * *

Amalia shuffled down the steps, taking them one at a time with both feet landing on the stair, her blanket dragging behind her with a picture in her other hand. Once on the ground, she rushed to the kitchen, where Tino was making lunch. As soon as she stepped through the threshold, she paused and stared at the unknown boy standing next to the Finnish man, complaining about something. He looked a few years older than herself, around 11 or 12 years of age. His accent wasn't from around there, more English than Nordic. He wore a sailor boy's uniform and had ungodly large eyebrows.

Tino sighed, but smiled and listened to the boy, moving around the kitchen to continue making the afternoon meal. He turned and found a frozen, shaking Amalia in the doorway.

"Amma?" his question seemed to silence the boy. He walked over and knelt down in front of her. "What are you doing up so early?" Her nap had been around 11:30 and she usually woke up at around one for lunch.

"I-I couldn't sleep, Uncle Fin, so I-I made you this," she stuttered, handing over the drawing with shaking fingers, her eyes to the ground. Tino frowned, she hadn't stammered over her words since before she gave them titles. He suspected that it had something to do with the older boy behind the counter.

Tino looked at the photo and saw a well done drawing of Lukas on a boat with a floating tall, big creature behind him.

"N-Norge had told me a story abou' his trip to Iceland and that's how he described it," she explained, fiddling with her blanket.

Tino smiled, ruffling her curly hair. "Thank you, _pieni_. I'll put this with the others. Hey, I'm sure you can create a story of your own with how many you have," he said. He noticed her blue eyes flicker to the boy, who was making sure none of the cupcakes were burning.

"Oh, I'm sure you want to know who that may be," the Finnish man said, chuckling. "That's Sealand, otherwise known as Peter. Sve says he got him off of Ebay, but I know he's joking."

"No, he's not joking, Ma," the boy, Peter, commented. "Pa really got me off of Ebay. That big liar, meany England didn't want me anymore."

Tino rolled his eyes, while Amalia stared, utterly confused. Ebay? 'Big liar, meany England'?

"Why he call you 'ma'?" she inquired with a quiet, shy voice, only loud enough for Tino to hear her.

The older nation rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I guess he sees me as a mother figure, like how you see Den as a father," he explained.

"But Papa says I am related to him."

Tino sighed, clearly exhausted by both of the children in his presence. Amalia's questions weren't tiring, they were just complicated answers that she wouldn't understand. "It's confusing and complicated. You'll understand when your older."

"How much older?"

"Old enough to understand what three times three equals," Tino replied. "Anyways, why don't you go greet yourself to Peter?"

Amalia's mouth twisted up at the thought of speaking to a new person. She was a shy child and didn't trust anyone except her new family. Though, she doesn't trust Mr. Puffin after he stole her candy. Being shy was expected of her because of the way she was raised. Tino was trying to get her out of that social shell and blossom to meet new people.

"Where is Sealand?" she questioned, changing the topic. She noticed how Peter flattened with a pout out of the corner of her eyes.

"It's off the coast of east Britain, but he's not a piece of land like us. He's a platform in the middle of the North Sea," Tino answered.

"But I'm still a country!" Peter exclaimed loudly, causing Amalia to duck behind the short blond's legs in fear. Loud things scared her, this all the Nordics knew after Emil had dropped a cup once. It took an hour to calm her down. She fisted Fin's clothing and dug her face in his pant leg.

"You're a micronation, Peter," he scolded. "And you frightened, Amalia."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" the boy said. "I didn't know."

"Well you do now. Come on, Amalia. Why don't you say hello to Peter?" the Nordic said, picking up the small tot and slowly walking over to the boy.

Her little thumb found her mouth as her head laid down on the man's shoulder. " _Hej_ ," she greeted quietly.

Peter gave her a smile that could nearly rival Tino's. "Hello. Sorry about earlier. I've been around Uncle Den so much and big brother Alfred," he apologized.

"Big brother Alfred?"

"Yea! He's the personification of America. He's so cool too!" Peter replied.

Amalia's stomach took that moment to growl. Tino set her down at her seat at the island and rushed about the kitchen again. He pulled the baking sweets out of the oven and heated up a bowl of macaroni and cheese, then filled a sippy cup fill of milk. He looked like a real mom, taking care of her kids, while Pops was at work.

Peter helped, setting her lunch in front of her and making himself a sandwich with a side of the cheesy noodles. He didn't miss the flinch he gained when he was close or made a loud noise. He was saddened, but had new determination to earn her liking.

After lunch, Tino had asked Peter to take Amalia out to the living room while he cleaned up. The girl argued to help her uncle, but he shooed her off. Peter nodded and motioned for the small girl to follow. He was going to grab her hand, but remembered that she was hesitant of him and would probably cry had he touched her. He didn't understand her behaviors and why she was so startled by him.

"What do you usually do after lunch?" the micronation asked, turning to her. He was boasting with confidence, as though he were talking to his friend, Wy.

She shuffled anxiously and gripped her ever present blanket. "Uncle Fin usually let's me watch TV," she muttered, keeping her icy eyes downward to the floor.

"Okay! We can watch whatever you want to," Peter said with a lot of enthusiasm. Amalia thought that Peter was a mini version of Mathias, but he was more obnoxious than the Dane, who actually payed attention to her mannerisms to tell when she was frightened.

Amalia's head nodded shakily and she scuttled over to the couch. Picking up the remotes, she jumped onto the cushioned seat and turned on the television. Peter stared at her for a moment, before following and sitting barely a foot beside her. He didn't notice, but the four year old was fidgeting in her seat nervously. He was too close for comfort.

A half hour and an episode of some anime the Nordics had gotten from a Japanese friend later, Tino came out of the kitchen and Amalia jumped off the couch to run over to him. He bent down, allowing her to whisper in his ear. He looked a little disappointed, but smiled and nodded. The girl darted down the hall.

"Ma? Why didn't she want to stay?" Peter asked, moving his legs to sit criss-cross.

Tino sighed and plopped down next to him. "You have to understand, Peter. Amalia may be a nation, but she wasn't raised the same way as you or me."

"What do you mean?" Peter looked as though he had been told his favorite candy brand had stopped making candy. "I thought Uncle Den had found her?"

The older blond shook his head. "No, he found the land, but he never found her until about a month ago in the snow. She came from an abusive household who kidnapped her before he could find her," he explained. Peter's eyes widened at the explanation and the whole reason for her skittishness was revealed.

"Really? B-But she's a country! She's bigger than any others! How is she so small and scared, when she's so tough!" the boy ranted, throwing his hands everywhere.

"I know, but you have to be slow and gentle with her. Understand, Peter?" Tino said, giving him a warning look. He knew the boy and if expectations were high, he would fall under pressure.

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, standing on the cushion suddenly, stars shining in his eyes. "I will protect her. I'll… I'll be the best cousin she's ever had!"

Tino chuckled. "You'll be her only cousin."

"Do you know where she went?" Peter questioned, hopping down to the ground.

"Yes, but be cautious or you'll scare Amalia even more," the mother like man warned.

"Okay! I promise!"

* * *

As days grew on, Amalia's relationship with all the Nordics and the adopted platform expanded and developed. She started playing with Peter more, less hesitant and afraid of his boisterous attitude. She discovered things about him, like the things he does on his little nation and his connections with all the other countries and micronations. He learned things about her, but she never spoke of her time at her kidnapper's house and all the bad things that have happened to her. She only said things about her 'uncles', 'brother' and 'Papa', along with the things she liked to do. Peter had questioned Tino and Berwald about her titles and they had scolded him not to question the smallest Nordic about it. He was okay with them, albeit a little surprised.

"Wait, Uncle Norge doesn't have one?" he asked one evening when they were all home and Amalia had gone upstairs to finish her puzzle.

"Nope and he's bummed too," Mathias answered.

"He's as disappointed as when I don't call him 'big brother'," Emil added.

Mathias gasped mockingly. "Maybe even more so."

"I'm fine with it, you stupid Dane," Lukas growled threateningly. It wasn't suspicious at all when he didn't choke Mathias for his smart remark. Sarcasm, of course it was.

He wasn't actually fine. His face would fall slightly when he heard Amalia call someone by their given name while he was still called Norge. He hid it as best as he could, but Mathias could see under all that mask he wore.

* * *

"Play… pretend?"

Peter was a little surprised the young girl in front of him did not know such a concept. "Yea! Like all those movies on TV, except you use your imagination and pretend you're there. Like pirates," he explained.

He watched her white-blue eyes light up ever so slightly. "Like Vikings?"

Peter nodded furiously, excitedly. "Yup! You just think it up and start playing like you're actually there."

She scrunched up her nose. "I don't know. Are Papa and Uncle Fin going to be okay with this?" she questioned, unsure whether or not he was going to get her in trouble.

"Of course. Uncle Den loves playing sometimes too," Peter said. "Come on! Let's play. Where do you wanna go, Am?"

Amalia shrugged. "Vikings…?"

"Sure," the sailor boy jumped up and pulled her to her feet. He picked her up under the arms, causing her to tense up, and tossed her lightly on the bed. He earned a squeak, but took a commanding pose and pointed to her shaking form.

"A lady such as yourself should not be so barbaric," Peter scowled playfully.

Amalia gave the smallest glimpse of a smirk, catching onto his act, before standing on the comforter of her bed, hands on her hips. "See here. I am no Lady. I am the Queen of the Vikings and you will listen to me!" she commanded.

Peter's eyes widened before he bowed at the waist. "My greatest apologies, your majesty. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes there is…"

When Mathias came up to get them for dinner, he found them making paper hats and paper weapons. Peter had a drawn on beard and Amalia was wearing her blanket like a cape. He stood in the doorway watching for a moment until the girl noticed him.

She gasped and stood. "It's an Englishman!" she exclaimed. (Keep in mind, she doesn't know history. Only her own country's history.)

"Fear not, your majesty. I shall take care of him immediately," Peter said, standing as though he were a guard.

"Wait," she paused, striding over to Mathias, who had a fond, amused smiled. She hummed. "He's clear. No magic wand or creepy brows. He also has nice eyes."

"Nice eyes, huh?" The Danish man inquired then plucked her up and tickled her in his arms.

She laughed and squirmed, unlike the first time he had tried the little attack. She nearly broke his nose and constantly apologized when it was explained what he was doing. A few weeks of improvements and she understood that most things they did were for play, not to hurt her.

"You think I have nice eyes?" he questioned his 'daughter'.

She gave him a small quirk of her lips. "The prettiest," she admitted.

"But they don't compare to Ice's!" Peter cackled evilly, jumping to place a crown on top of Amalia's small head. It slumped over her eyes as she giggled.

"Oh ha ha, Mr. Funny. Come on, it's time for dinner. Later you can continue with whatever you were doing," he announced, ruffling Peter's hair and walking out of the bedroom with the boy at his heels.

"Vikings!" Amalia corrected. "Like all those stories you and Norge and Uncle Sve tell me before bed."

Mathias chuckled. "That's adorable. You like those stories?"

She nodded, her curly locks flying. "All of them with my tiny heart."

His own heart melted with love and happiness. He loved that she adored his stories of Lukas, Berwald, and his teen years, rebellious as Vikings. He just hoped she didn't grow up like that.

* * *

 **No Translations This Chapter - Or Ones That Have Already Been Used**

 **Just a little filler chapter for Sealand's character in Amalia's life with much fluff.**

 _ **Reviews?**_


	4. December 6-7

**Little Nordic**

 _December 6_

* * *

It was a quiet Wednesday in the Nordic household. Amalia was in the kitchen eating her breakfast, footed pajama feet swinging back and forth idly. Lukas was the one taking care of her that day, so he was in the living room on Mathias's comfy recliner, reading the Norwegian morning paper. The nations got six different papers each morning, one from all their countries, including Greenland. Mathias was the one to keep an eye on the little one's land, just in case Papa had to step in for whatever reason.

Lukas heard the loud clack of Amalia putting her dish in the sink and looked up to find her staring at him. He placed the paper down. "What's wrong?" he questioned.

She hesitated, shuffling her feet and twisting her fingers between her blanket. He waited patiently until she got the courage to ask. She was mentally psyching herself up to ask the man her question.

"C-Can we, um, can we go out-outside?" the brown haired toddler asked, near a mumble close to Berwald's.

Lukas folded his paper down on the table and stood, walking towards the blue pajama-clad child. "You want to go outside?" She paused, thinking, nodding. "Well, Fin did buy you that snowsuit… and you haven't left the house. I suppose," he answered.

A large smile, bigger than any other she had given before, graced her pale rose lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck. " _Tak_ , Norge!"

She let him go, letting him grab her tiny hand and leading her upstairs. He felt a swell of happiness when she asked. She hadn't gone outside yet, nor had she asked anyone else. She had asked him. It made him feel a little more important to her, since he still had no title. He felt honoured.

He helped her change into warm clothes; sweatpants, a thermal shirt and fluffy socks, before going back downstairs to put on all their snow gear.

"How come Norge doesn't have to be fluffed up like me?" Amalia questioned with a slight pout.

"Because your smaller and could get sick easier. You don't want to be sick, do you?" he answered, helping her into her 'marshmallow suit' as Emil calls it. It was a bright red, so she could easily be seen in the snow.

"No…" she grumbled and plopped down on the ground to get her black boots on.

"I'm still surprised you don't like pink," Lukas mused his thoughts aloud.

She visibly blanched. "Papa said it was like one of your fairies throwing up. It's a too bright colour," she replied, slipping on her gloves and allowing Lukas to pick up her slightly stiff, fluffy body.

"Well, that's not too far from the truth…" he commented, shrugging on his jacket and pulling on his scarf. The fairies he knows, which he knows the Dane can't see like everyone else, do throw up bright colours, but pink was just a sparkle in the mixture of stomach acid.

Amalia giggled and held his hand as they walked to the backdoor. They heard pitter patter of paws and looked down to see Hanata waiting with her nose pressed against the glass door, tongue out and tail wagging. The toddler let out a noise of amusement and pushed the door open, letting the fluffball dart out and disappear. Getting a white dog and being a country with a lot of snow wasn't the greatest idea.

"She'll be back in five minutes," Lukas said, guiding the outside to the canopy covered porch.

Amalia's eyes enlarged at the feel of cold. She remembered that night she fled from her 'parents'. The cold was bitter and harsh then, wind slapping her face. But now? It was amazing. It was beautiful. The snowfall was steady in tiny flakes and there was no wind to blow her down. It was thick, yet soft. Perfectly molded to the ground. A little shape was moving through the snow, making a little path, which she knew was Hanata.

"Go on," Lukas encouraged, pushing her gently. She looked back at him, questioning silently if it was okay. He nodded, urging her to go. She put her back to him, before realizing something.

"What do you do in the snow?"

With a sigh, Lukas stepped down from the porch, sitting on a step. "You can make a snowman, a snow castle, anything you want," he replied, picking up the freezing material and compressing it tightly.

Amalia watched, fascinated at the ability to mold the numb fluff. She bent down and scooped up a handful. She bit it, curious if it had any taste.

Lukas snorted, the closest to a laugh. "They're not as good unless you got flavoured syrup, but make sure you don't eat yellow snow, okay?" he advised, patting down his hands.

Amalia smiled and nodded. "Okay! Will you help me build a snowperson, Norge?" she asked innocently.

"Alright."

One snowman turned into two, which turned to four and so on until Amalia got tired and the cold began to seep into her bones, shivering her to the core. Some snowmen were big and some were small. Seven were made to copy their little family with a Hanata and Mr. Puffin joining.

When Lukas and Amalia shed their snow clothes, the former noticed that the latter's innermost layer of clothes were soaked, freezing her already shaking form. Her arms were around herself, knees bent together and teeth chattering loudly. His mind quickly flashed to how they found her, before he shook his head to rid of the horrid image.

"Seems the snow got into your suit," he commented, taking her in his arms and walking to her adjoined bathroom upstairs.

After slipping off the wet clothes and starting a warm bath, Amalia gradually dipped her body into the tub, until she was fully under. When she was done and clean, Lukas dressed her in pajamas, a penguin footie with a hood, and traveled down to the kitchen for lunch. His little penguin followed after, hobbling with her ever-so-present blanket.

For lunch, they sat on the couch watching television while they ate. Amalia cuddled close to Lukas, legs curled close with her head on his arm. His own arm was around her shoulders protectively as he blankly stared at the screen. He would nod and listen to when the little girl made a comment about whatever they were watching. Sometimes she would mumble Danish words under her breath, amusing the stoic man.

In the middle of the crime show Berwald had got her into, much to Tino's dismay, Amalia sat up and looked at her Norwegian caretaker.

"Why don't you smile more?" she inquired, setting her hands on his thighs.

Lukas glanced at her before his eyes were to the floor. "It's been a long, long time since I smiled, _lille venn,_ " he replied.

"But why don't you? Big brother Ice smiles, even when he doesn't want to," the girl said, then pressed her palms to his smooth cheeks. "I think, if you did smile, it would be beautiful."

Lukas raised a brow. "You think so?"

She nodded her head. "I know so."

He put his hands on her ribs and placed her sitting on his thighs. Her skinny, fluff covered legs immediately wrapped around his torso. "You don't smile often, either," he pointed out.

It was her turn to frown. "Mother and Father told me it was ugly and said I couldn' smile again," she answered, picking at his shirt.

"You smiled so big earlier when I said yes to go outside. It was gorgeous and so bright, it blinded me," Lukas complimented, pushing a hand through her hair. Her icy eyes shut and she leaned into the warm touch. "Whatever your 'parents' told you, they were all lies, Amalia. They hated everything and took their frustration out on you. That wasn't right. Understand?"

She nodded, brown hair bouncing. "Thank you, Daddy."

The Norwegian's eyes, usually quiet with emotion, widened greatly with shock. His mouth was gaping open and his purple eyes stared, no movement. Amalia gasped and put her hands over her head, fearfully shaking.

" _Undskyld! Undskyld!_ I didn't mean to!" she stammered, curling closer to herself.

Lukas slowly moved her hands down to her sides to reveal hot tears falling down her rose cheeks. She sniffled and flinched at every little movement. He stared at her quietly before pushing away those unneeded tears.

"Daddy?"

Amalia shakily nodded. "Papa likes Norge and Norge likes Papa, even though he hurts Papa sometimes with his tie. It's for love. That's why Norge is Daddy," she explained simple and to the point, stuttering slightly. She flicked her eyes back and forth between his own orbs and her hands in the fabric of his shirt.

"Love, huh?" Lukas raised a brow. How did such a little girl see right through him, seeing that he was always emotionless and practically never said anything. He himself wasn't too sure.

"Yea," she stated, "I-Is it okay?"

Lukas pursed lips slightly, thinking for a long while, setting her on edge. "Yes."

A bright smile appeared. "Daddy smiled! Daddy smiled!"

The man blinked, before touching his lips, which were curled upward just ever so slightly. "So are you, _liten pingvin_ ," he teased, poking her side. She squeaked. "I like that, but why so late?"

She sheepishly rung her hands. "I didn't know if Daddy would be okay with it. I didn't know how to tell you," she said.

The Norwegian softened, placing gentle lips against her freckled cheek. She grumbled slightly, scrunching up her face, before looking expectantly at him. She waited for his response to her reasons for not giving him a name off the bat like the others. To her, Lukas didn't look like he felt any type of emotion, except for the occasional bout of anger. Every once and awhile she'd see a flicker of love, but those episodes didn't last long. She thought, unlike the others, he would toss away the name and her away, not caring if she froze in the winter or had no caretaker. That was until he told her stories and played with her outside for the first time.

"Well, you told me now and I'm happy," he said, but his face still remained stony. She believed, however.

"An-An about Papa…" she trailed.

Lukas bopped her tiny nose. "You're smart for a girl like yourself," was all she received as a response. Amalia nodded and laid her head down on Lukas's chest, cuddling close. She was asleep within moments.

Lukas shifted so he was laying back to the seat cushions and the little girl on his chest. He grabbed her blanket and draped it over top of her. His soft, calloused hand ran down her spiny back idly as the TV continued to play. As she drifted deeper into unconsciousness, his thoughts began to fly to the forefront of his mind.

The first was why she had called him Daddy. He understood that Tino and Berwald were uncles, Emil was a brother, and Mathias being a father. But him? Why? He loved the girl with all his heart. She was a quiet ball of sunshine to his rainy, dark day. She made him smile, if ever so slightly. He hadn't done much for her besides story-telling and bringing her outside. He didn't understand why she hadn't picked someone else. He was grateful that he meant something to her, but he didn't know if he'd be able to take care of a little girl. He had raised Emil, but that was different.

Second was how she figured out he liked the Danish man. He wasn't sure how he felt about the loud nation. He thought of him as a best friend, but there may have been more to that. Did Mathias like him too? What did he think of the Norwegian? He smiled and bothered him a lot, but he could be doing that in spite and hidden anger. He didn't want to start expecting things from anyone, so he stopped thinking about that. The last time he trusted someone, he lost so many people.

* * *

 _December 7_

* * *

"Daddy!" Amalia shouted, running down the stairs and into the TV room. Lukas was sitting on the couch, reading a book. He was accompanied by Mathias, Peter and Emil. The first two were playing a card game, while Emil flipped through his phone. Tino and Berwald had a meeting that Sunday for an emergency. All of them looked up at her holler. A new name they didn't know about.

Amalia, wearing one of Emil's sweatshirts and a pair of leggings, rushed over to Lukas, tears streaming down her face.

"Han-Han-Hanata ruined m-my picture," she sobbed, rubbing her eyes with fists, trying to stop the flow.

Lukas picked her up and cradled her, ignoring the three others stare. "It's alright, _liten pingvin_. Where is she?" he questioned, gently calming her.

"I-In my room. I-I was drawing an-and she came in all excited an-and splash water on my picture," she explained through her sobs. Lukas helped wipe away the tears still forming and falling.

"W-Wait," Mathias stammered out, clearly flustered by the heavy blush on his cheeks. Peter's eyes were wide and mouth gaping. Emil was simply staring, phone frozen in his hand. "Daddy?"

Lukas nodded, still unfazed and stoic as ever. "You heard right," he said, standing with Amalia and walking to the stairs.

"But that suggests-"

"Yes," Lukas cut off the Dane, trudging up the stairs as Amalia stared back at her papa sniffling.

"But… how… why… huh?" Mathias looked utterly confused, sharing a look with the other two boys. Emil shrugged and Peter blinked, shutting his mouth.

"Well, now that that secrets out… got a four?"

"Not again!"

Lukas looked down to the hiccuping four year old leaning against his shoulder. He rubbed her back and went to her bedroom door, opening it and seeing what damage Hanata had done to the poor girl's room.

Amalia's art section of her room was trashed. Water from her cup for water colouring was spilt all over pages and pages of paintings and drawings. Colour bled from the pages, mixing and staining the floor. Crayons were ruined and markers bled. Paint splattered on the floor and walls, most likely from falling from their spot on Amalia's easel. The rest of her room had colourful paws on the floor and toys were thrown everywhere. The culprit herself was on the dog bed Amalia had asked for in case the dog wanted to sleep in her room. She didn't quite trust the fluffball on her bed, for obvious reasons.

Lukas didn't expect so much of a mess. He set Amalia down and grabbed her blanket from the pile of wet, running coloring pages. He turned to her solemnly.

"We're going to have to wash it," he said, knowing those words pained a child.

Her eyes grew bigger, more tears threatening those icicle eyes. Lukas tensed, unsure what to do. He knew it was coming, but didn't know how to deal with it. Emil wasn't attached to anything except that stupid puffin as a child when he was raising the isolated nation.

"Hey, don't worry. It'll only be for a little," he said, kneeling down and ruffling her hair. "I'm sure if you play with Peter and Mathias time will go by faster."

"But-But my room!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the mess.

"Tino and I will have to clean it up. It probably won't be done until tomorrow. You'll have to sleep with someone tonight," he answered. "Go join Mathias, while I start cleaning your blanket."

She nodded and bolted from the room, eager to rid her mind of the thoughts centered on her comfort item, along with Hanata. She wasn't too happy with the dog and didn't want to be around her. Hanata wasn't getting treats for a while. She repeated her actions not ten minutes before and plopped down in her papa's lap. Mathias chuckled and wrapped his arm around her thin waist.

"How is your room, Am?" he questioned gently as Peter shuffled the cards and made three hands of seven cards. They were sitting at the coffee table, Peter on his knees and Mathias criss-cross. His torso was tall enough that he could reach the table. With Amalia in his lap, she just barely peeked over the edge with her small height.

The small nation pouted, taking her hand of cards. "Hanata ruined _tæppe_. And my drawing stuff too," she answered, keeping her hand tucked down so the Danish man wouldn't see. She had been taught go-fish just a few days ago, but was getting into it pretty quickly, after getting help from Mathias and Emil. She won only two games since she started.

Mathias kissed the top of her head. "We'll have to get you new drawing supplies soon, but for now… Petey, you got any threes?" he turned towards the boy, who for once wasn't wearing his sailor outfit, but a pair of jeans and a nice polo.

"Aw, you totally cheated," the micronation pouted, handing over his card. Mathias cheered under his breath and looked down to Amalia. Her lips were pursed as she thought and her face void of emotions. She was hanging around Berwald and Lukas too much, learning the stoic way.

"Papa… do you have any Ace's?" she asked, turning her head up innocently towards the man.

His eyes widened a fraction, before he grumbled and handed over two Ace's. Amalia giggled and took them, placing all four down, two from her deck and two from Mathias's. The game went on until they stopped when Tino and Berwald arrived home, the former looking utterly exhausted and the latter being his support he leaned on.

"Uncle Fin!" Amalia exclaimed, jumping up and rushing to the two. She grabbed his hand and looked at him with furrowed, concerned brows. "Are you okay? Mr. Boss-man didn't hurt you right?"

Tino chuckled, leaning down to kiss her head. She was sweet and adorable, always worrying over their health and putting them before herself. She never ate at a meal until everyone else was there and didn't sleep until she knew everyone was home, safe and sound. Her sleep suffered from nightmares on a nightly basis and, on occasion, Mathias would come home late from hanging out with his friends at a bar, causing her to stay up even later. Tino wasn't too happy with the schedule she had, along with Lukas, but they couldn't stop her from doing so.

"I am alright, _pieni_. Just tired. It was a long meeting with lots of problems," he said, picking her up and hugging her close. She always had this warmth to her that settled his worries instantly just by holding her.

Amalia's head pulled up. "Uncle Tino doesn't have to make dinner. We will!"

"We will?" Emil piped up from his spot across the couch.

"Yea! Ma's gotta be really tired and it wouldn't be right for him to cook. We'll make the meal tonight," Peter added, standing and going over to his 'parents'.

"That's very sweet of you," Tino said with a smile.

"What should we make?" Mathias questioned.

"Potatoes!" the micronation said.

"A-And pancakes!" Amalia added, throwing her hand out, but you couldn't see it with the long sleeve covering it, which made her look even more adorable.

"Potatoes…" Berwald trailed.

"And pancakes?" Emil finished, looking uninterested in the idea. The two children deflated slightly, but Tino recovered quickly.

"I think that's a wonderful idea! I am quite hungry for something simple." He set the little girl nation down and watched as she and Peter dashed to the kitchen. The older nations chuckled, before Mathias followed, making sure they didn't burn down the kitchen. Usually both he and Tino would make dinner since the last time he let Tino cook himself, he nearly blasted the oven into outer space.

The Finnish man let his smile drop, along with his eyelids as the real exhaustion appeared on his face. He wasn't as weak as everyone thought him to be. He beat Russia once, they always forget, and just because he was very enthusiastic and seemed to show all his emotions, he truly didn't. Especially not around the little ones.

"Let's get you upstairs," Berwald announced, picking up his 'wife' bridal style. Tino would have protested if he wasn't so tired. He allowed the Swede to carry him up to his room and settle him in his bed. "I will bring dinner up to you."

Tino silently nodded, eyelids already falling heavily as he fell fast asleep.

He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep, until there were two small dips in his bed, effectively waking him up. He heard hushed voices and some noises to indicate silence, along with whining from a certain micronation. He flickered his eyes open and blearily saw Amalia kneeling next to him and Peter standing next to her on the floor. He looked about and found Berwald with a tray of food and Mathias with his always embarrassing pink apron Emil got him last Christmas, Lukas was watching from the doorway, looking stoic, but genuinely worried for his spiritually related brother.

Tino smiled and slowly sat up, causing the little girl next to him to jump back slightly. He retaliated by drawing her in close, arms around her waist and her back to his front. He hummed as he smelled her vanilla sweet pea scented hair. Amalia giggled at the feel.

"Papa made you a meal, Uncle Fin. Uncle Sve made you a special drink that is only for adults, he said. Daddy wanted to help too, but Papa doesn't trust him in the kitchen," the small nation informed him, idly playing with his smooth fingers. Even years after fighting alongside his brothers, his hands were always feminine and smooth. Though, holding a gun was much easier with his slender, agile fingers, he had to admit.

The Finnish man frowned, quirking a brow. "'Daddy'?"

The Greenlandic girl nodded, then pointed to the Nordic at the door, leaning casually against it. "Norge is okay with me calling him Daddy," she answered, then her muscles tensed under his fingers. "I-Is t-that okay?"

"Oh heavens! Yes, Amma! It's alright with me! I was just concerned if Den brought someone here he shouldn't have," Tino explained.

Berwald scoffed, setting the food tray on Tino's legs. "Like we would allow him to do that."

Mathias bobbed his head back and forth, mouth twisted as he thought. "That's true, but you know me! I'd never bring someone here and expect Am to call them 'Daddy'."

"But you're okay with her calling Norge her dad?" Tino smirked slightly.

Mathias and Lukas's cheeks reddened slightly as their heads turned away embarrassingly. Berwald snorted, close to a laugh, Peter cackled and Tino sighed. Amalia simply stole a piece of potato from the plate. She was oblivious to the awkward atmosphere growing between her 'Papa' and 'Daddy'. She didn't understand why they were sometimes bashful when someone asked about their titles. They were in love. She could clearly see that. Why couldn't they?

"Alrighty then! Come on, Am. Let's let Fin rest in peace for a while. We still have to clean up your room," Mathias said, plucking the girl up from the Finnish man's hold. The girl seemed to be depressed at that statement, which wasn't common. She always liked her room clean, down to the smallest crumb.

"What happened to her room? It was clean before we left," Tino inquired, worried something happened to the pipes or the fireplace in her room.

"Yes it was, but Hanata decided to have a spaz and destroy Amalia's art supplies, her drawings and some of her furniture. Including her blanket," Lukas said, pushing off the doorway and allowing the Dane room to exit, before following close behind. Since Tino was worn out from the day's meetings, the two would have to clean Amalia's room, along with the girl, who was anxiously thinking about her blanket. It was after dinner and the dryer was still making sure the item wasn't wet anymore.

Tino's hand was to his mouth in shock as small tears gathered in his eyes. "H-Hanata?" he choked. He felt awful. The girl looked crestfallen at the mention of her room. And all her drawings! They were ruined and because Hanata had one of her weekly freak outs and he and Berwald weren't there to prevent the whole thing from unfolding.

A hand smoothed his tense back. He saw Berwald on the other side of him as Peter gently hopped up and cuddled into his side for comfort.

"It's alright, Ma! Am's may be sad, but she's not angry at Hanata. She just won't want to be around her for a while is all," Peter assured the short blond.

Tino nodded and sniffled slightly. "But she looked so broken. All her pictures, Ber! She works so hard on them!" he sobbed.

"She'll make new and better ones," was all the Swede said before encouraging Tino to eat.

* * *

After cleaning up her room, Amalia wasn't in the mood to do much else. She curled up on the couch with her freshly cleaned blanket and tucked her face into Mr. Puffin's fur. He squeaked quietly at the sudden action, but calmed and closed his eyes, sitting closer. Emil was busy doing something, so Mr. Puffin had been quite bored and lethargic. He found his little snug bug on the couch and plopped beside her.

There was a dark shadow casted over the two, so they looked up curiously. Tino was kneeling down beside them with a sweet smile, when he should have been in bed resting. He overexerted himself that day and Amalia wasn't too happy he was up and roaming about.

"Uncle Fin," she scolded, sitting up and wrapping a hand around Mr. Puffin to steady him. "You're supposed to be in bed."

Tino chuckled, ruffling her short, messy hair. "I've come to cheer you up! Your happiness is more important than my work or my stress," he answered.

"B-But you're really tired! When I get really tired, you tell me to go to sleep because it's good," she argued, pursing her lips and staring at him with challenging eyes. It would have been quite threatening, if it wasn't a four year old with a puffin in her arms.

The Finnish man sighed. "Listen, Amalia. I heard what Hanatamago did to your room and I am very, _very_ sorry she did that. She ruined all your beautiful pictures. To make it up to you, let's do something fun!" he encouraged, plucking her from the couch and settling her on his shoulders. Mr. Puffin came along for the ride, sitting right on top the short blond's hair as Amalia balanced herself. Tino took her legs gently and began parading around, humming tunes she couldn't recognize under his breath.

"Uncle Fin, where are we going?" Amalia questioned, peering down at him.

"To get the decorations!" he cheered, giggling lightly.

The little girl was silent for a moment. "What decorations? For what?"

Tino's smile faded slightly as he shifted to see her. "Have you ever decorated for Christmas before?"

She shook her brunette head. "No… what's Christmas?"

"Oh my…" Tino trailed, gaze back down to the floor in thought. "We're going to need the entire family now. Den! Nor! Ice! Sve! Code Mistletoe!"

Each head shot out of different rooms in the hallway they were standing in. Mathias's face came from the game room with Peter, Lukas peered from his office, Emil appeared from the sauna, and Berwald was seen poking out from his own office.

"Code Mistletoe?" they questioned in unison, looking confused at the small blond, who groaned in exaggeration.

"Code _Mistletoe!"_ he repeated and watched with Amalia as their eyes widened with realization. They each exited their respective rooms, jogging past them. Except for Emil, he had to get changed before following.

"Uncle Fin, what's code Missy's toe?" Amalia inquired.

"It's code Mistletoe," Emil answered, coming out from changing in record time. He had on a lopapeysa with black jeans and fuzzy, red and green socks. Mr. Puffin squawked and flew to sit on the Icelandic boy's head. Amalia giggled at the content pair. "Code Mistletoe is what Fin says when there's a Christmas crisis, which I'm guessing because you have no idea what Christmas actually is."

She nodded and was taken off Tino's shoulders and settled on Emil's hip. "You're in for a world of fun," he added, but the girl wasn't too sure if he was excited about the idea or disliked it greatly. She didn't get a chance to ask when a ruckus was made down the hall in the family room. The three went and investigated.

When they arrived, there were boxes upon bins stacked in the room as Berwald, Mathias, and Lukas stood there waiting.

"How did you get these here so fast?" the Greenlandic girl questioned in awe. She was set on her feet, allowing her to roam around the piles of storage. There had to be at least two dozen boxes around them, stacking overtop of Mathias's head.

They seemed to pass the question off in favor of opening the boxes. Lukas pulled one down and knelt next to it on the floor. Amalia bounced over and stood opposite of him, waiting with suspenseful excitement as he opened the container, revealing the case full of more boxes with large, colorful balls. The small nation bent down and picked a stray ball up, one without a box, and examined it. It was red with two white stripes going through the middle and was twice as big as her hands.

She looked up with swirling blue eyes full of curiosity. "What are they for?" she inquired.

"The tree," Lukas replied softly. "For Christmas, you set up trees and decorate them with a variety of things. Garlands of popcorn, ornaments, a star on top-"

"Don't forget the candy cane!" Mathias called from behind a stack.

Amalia soaked up all the information given to her. They sounded like fascinating, wonderful things. She had no clue what a candy cane was, but if her papa was crazy for them they had to be good. She nodded her understanding, tucking the ball to her chest as she explored the boxes the others were looking at. She jumped over to Peter first, as he tangled himself in lights she recognized from her neighbors' houses.

She giggled at his defeated look. "Maybe you should've asked Papa for help, Sea," she recommended.

"Yea, I thought of that after I got into this mess," Peter huffed.

"I'd help, but I don't want to join you," Amalia teased, earning a little grin from the micronation.

"Oh, yea? Come here!" he exclaimed, launching himself at her. She squealed and quickly ran away, dashing through towers of bins and ending up behind Berwald, who was unfurling green branches.

"Uncle Sve! Uncle Sve!" she exclaimed, tucking back so the Swedish man would defend her against Peter.

Berwald merely sighed at the state of the boy. "Again?"

Tino peeked his head over and nearly dropped dead of laughter. He remembered the accident last year relating to Christmas lights and Peter's decision to put them up himself.

Once the Finnish man calmed and began helping the micronation, Berwald turned back to his job and Amalia watched him stick the branches into a large post.

"Uncle Sve, what's that?" she questioned, pointing at the object.

"It's a Christmas tree. A fake one. We usually go to get real ones, but Peter developed a reaction to them that wasn't pleasant. So we got a fake one," he explained, picking up another branch and separating the pieces.

"Oh… Are real ones better than fake ones?" she stared for a moment, before looking back at the large ornament ball in her hands.

Berwald raised a brow, but continued with the branches. "Ups and downs to everything," was his philosophical answer of the day.

" _Hej_ , Amma!" her papa drew her attention.

The little nation turned and shuffled over to where she heard him call. He was standing by several opened boxes, a wreath around his neck, a Santa hat on his head, and a red, blinking ball on his nose.

He grinned proudly despite the craziness of it all. "What do you think?"

Amalia giggled, approaching him and standing on her tiptoes to try and reach the ball. Her fingers barely made it to his chest, so Mathias bent down and allowed her to poke the ball flashing on his sniffing appendage.

"What's that?" The question was continually being repeated, but all the wonders she was learning just for one holiday made it fascinating and exciting.

"It's a red nose, which comes from the song _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ ," Mathias explained, plopping down on his bottom and crossing his legs. His eyes lit up like a clear starry night, captivating ocean blue eyes shining with pure delight. "There's so much you don't know about Christmas! How are we going to get you caught up in time?" He hummed, looking down in thought as he rubbed his chin comedically. "It seems there's only one thing we can do… Christmas music!"

The Danish man was up on his feet in seconds, wreath stacked on a bin and nose abandoned on the table, but the hat remained tightly on his head. He rushed about, Amalia waiting a few moments before he came back with a stereo and Emil's ipod. He plugged the two in and suddenly a jolly carol of _Sleigh Ride_ was blasting on the speakers.

Mathias pulled the girl up, the red ornament left on the floor, and set her feet on his. He danced freely, picking up his feet with her following his actions with squeals of laughter and a bright smile. His hands tightly wounded in hers. He sang off-key, but his chaotic, amusing dance moves made up for it.

Unbeknownst to them, Lukas stood next to a box recording the whole scene with his phone, a soft, almost unnoticeable smile on his lips.

 _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_ started to play on the radio _,_ much to Tino's dismay. He was embarrassed further as Mathias pulled him close and winked. Tino chuckled nervously, but joined in on singing when Amalia pulled on his hands and twirled him around.

The night continued with dancing, singing, decorating, and laughing as the Nordic five plus two spent the night as a whole introducing a special holiday to the beloved youngest. Her frown was never present as they kept her busy from remembering that day's previous events and Hanatamago was forgiven as Amalia knelt down and took her front paws, grooving gently to the music. The puffball ruffed, kissing the girl's cheek and scampering around the house.

At the end of the night, way past the kiddies bedtime, Amalia was wrapped in her special blanket curled against Mathias's side and Peter was in a deep sleep with his head resting against Tino's, blanket draped over him. The littlest one was prolonging sleep, she didn't want the night to end. It was the best, most thrilling night of her existence. Why would she want to give it up for silly sleep?

" _Glædelig jul, lille,"_ Mathias whispered gently into her ear, hand grazing through her locks to ease her slowly to succumb to the exhaustion. It succeeded as her eyelids began fluttering close and her face was tucked into the blanket, body finally relaxing with sleep.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Norwegian_

Lille venn - Little one

Liten pingvin - Little penguin (Established nickname for Amalia by Lukas)

 _Danish_

tæppe - Blanket

Glædelig jul, lille - Merry Christmas, little one

* * *

 **Post Christmas, but whatever. Christmas will live on all 365 days! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please recommend this story to anyone really.**

 **It's a bit much of me, but I worked forever on this story and I just want a few people to appreciate it because it boosts what little confidence I own.**

 **Thank you, again! And** _ **Review?**_


	5. December 9

**Little Nordic**

 _December 9_

* * *

Amalia was finally able to go shopping with the two biological brothers, Emil and Lukas. Emil wasn't too happy about going with the Norwegian, especially since the little girl was calling him 'big brother' and Lukas 'Daddy'. It was slightly awkward, but one look into those large azure eyes and he couldn't say no.

Tino had made them a list of things they needed to get before they got home. Most was just groceries, but there were a few things Peter and Amalia needed from clothing shops. The boy was in need of some socks after Mr. Puffin chewed holes in them and Amalia needed a nice outfit for a certain occasion coming up, which no one told her about. They only said if need be she would have something in her closet for a formal event. Tino had suggested getting a dress, but Amalia complained that she wouldn't be able to do anything in the confining outfit. They settled on an agreement; She would get one dress and one nice shirt and pants, like the outfits they wore to work. Mathias and Emil were surprised by her outfit choice, but they guessed being raised around six males and having not been dressed up the first four years of her life, she would have an odd choice of wardrobe.

So there the three were in the grocery store. It was their last trip before they could go home, having picked up the clothes beforehand to get it over with. Tino had given them a long list of food since their stock was almost out, meaning it would take the longest.

Amalia was holding onto Emil's hand as they walked next to Lukas pushing the cart half-filled with food. She was curiously looking all over the place at the many colourful labels and products they had. Some she wished she could try, but knew that would be asking too much and they were only there for the necessities. She'd have to beg Mathias next time she went.

"Why do they have so much stuff on the shelves?" she questioned, looking up at the Icelandic boy.

"Because they don't want to run out of the food and have to restock them every few minutes or so," he answered, uncharacteristically patient towards the tiny nation. Her mouth opened in an 'o' shape, before she fell silent again.

They turned down an aisle and both brothers' eyes looked opposite sides for what they were looking for. Amalia was avoiding the lines between each square box, creating her own game.

"Did Mathias say he needed…?

"I think so, but with him…"

Amalia wasn't really listening to them as she let go of her big brother's hand and looked at the boxes labeled in Danish. The only reason the others could read it was because they each learned each other's languages. Amalia did know Danish, but only speaking it, not reading for she was never taught. She never grew up in a Danish speaking house though, she simply knew it like she knew English. Mouth gaped, she was intrigued by everything she saw. It was her first time out in public, it was to be expected. It reminded the Nordics of a baby around new people.

"Amalia!"

She turned around and quickly rushed back to the brothers.

"Don't go running off without one of us, okay? Someone could seriously hurt you," Lukas scowled, but held her cheek with worry.

"Okay, Daddy," she replied then yawned. Emil chuckled.

"Tired already? We're not even done," he teased, picking her up.

"But we've been out all day," she whined slightly, trying to keep the attitude to a down low. She never whined about not getting her way, only when she was really tired did she.

"Alright, let's hurry up and get everything then we can go home," Lukas said, picking up his pace slightly.

Emil rolled his eyes then followed. "You make Lukas and Mathias do some wild things, Am."

"I don't try! Not my fault," the Greenlandic girl pouted, head resting on the albino boy's shoulder and her arms around his neck.

"You can rest, Amma. Lukas and I will deal with the groceries," he said.

She yawned and silently nodded, eyes already slipping shut.

* * *

Amalia woke up in her own bed and her blanket curled around her. Tino hadn't allowed her to take the item with her shopping, saying it could get ruined, which she wasn't really happy with, but it gave her another reason to hurry with the shopping. She stretched out and squeaked at feeling a bone pop, which she hated. Even when Mathias did it, she flinched and was given permission by Lukas to hit him upside the head. It earned giggles and prevented the Dane to do it for the rest of the day, so she continued until he would be rid of the habit.

Slipping from her bed, dressed in her snowman footsie, the toddler stuck her thumb in her mouth and dragged her blanket to the door. Once she stepped out, she shuffled down the hall, hearing voices converse downstairs. Two were Tino and Lukas and the other two she knew, but couldn't put her finger on it. She went downstairs, seeing the two Nordics at the opened door, blocking whoever they were talking to.

"Uncle Fin?" she called drowsily as she moved to stand behind them. "Daddy? Who is it?"

Lukas and Tino looked down at her. The latter had a look of complete fear, but determination held strong in his eyes. The former was emotionless, but his eyebrows twitched slightly with irritation and his eyes betrayed a small glimpse of anxiety. Their bodies moved just enough so the little nation could see who was at the door.

Amalia's half lidded eyes flipped widely open and her hand dropped to her side, mouth gaping. Her blood ran cold, freezing in her veins, and her body was paralyzed with utter fright. Never had she expected this. Never had she wanted this. But it was there. Right at her doorstep.

"Hello, _Amalia_ ," her 'father' gritted, giving a fake grin as he tried his best to be nice. Next to him was her mother with a small, innocent smile. Both were wearing their Sunday best, trying to impress whoever had their daughter. The girl stared, she felt every scar on her body tingle at the remembrance of every single bottle, every single knife and every single nail that dug into her skin. Every word screamed by either one of them echoing in her ears.

"Aren't you going to say hello, _girl_?" her 'mother' asked, snapping slightly at the name. Amalia violently flinched at the cold voice.

Tino cleared his throat to gain the humans' attention. "Amalia has just woken from a nap and is still a little sleepy. I would appreciate it if you didn't talk to my niece in that tone of voice," he said, a hidden warning in his low voice. It was the first time Amalia had heard the Finnish man openly admit he counted her as family and felt tingling in the back of her eyes, which were not from terror from the humans in front of her.

Lukas moved so he was in front of Amalia, who immediately took hold of his pant leg, peeking out to her kidnappers.

" _Your_ 'niece'?" the woman asked, voice on the edge of laughter. Her eyes were blazing with anger. "She is my daughter and I would like her back."

"As far as we know, you're the people who took her when she was little. She is our family, not yours," Lukas answered monotonously. He was trying deeply to keep his anger in control. His inner Viking was dying to kill them both in a matter of seconds for what they did to Amalia.

"Took her?" the man scoffed. "We saved her from the freezing cold. We're more like saviors than anything."

"Saviors who beat her and cursed her out. You did nothing but push her down and tell her she was nothing, when she is much more than that," Tino sneered, clenching his hands into fists.

"We did no such things! Whatever she's told you is a lie!" the woman exclaimed, losing her composure faster than the two Nordics thought. They had no self control.

Amalia whined into the Norwegian's leg, hiding her face fearfully. He hushed her gently, hand against her head holding her protectively close.

"Yelling is not needed," Lukas said, eyes narrowing. "I would suggest you both leave, before we call the police."

Their eyes widened, before slitting and giving him dirty looks. They looked tempted to stay and threaten them, but it wouldn't last long because they were _countries_ and the police _worked_ for them, meaning they would immediately be arrested for child abuse and harassment without any evidence. It was a gentleman's/lady's agreement that all countries wouldn't abuse their power with the police force and call an arrest for no reason. In any emergency or situation such as this, they could use it. Amalia was a country too and could have the police arrest the couple without explanation.

They turned and left, grumbling to each other. Lukas and Tino knew they'd be back somehow, someway, and take Amalia from them. They wanted to abuse her and release all their frustration out on her. They wanted their punching bag back.

Like that would happen.

* * *

Amalia clung to Lukas, and Mathias when he got home, all day and night. She only let go of them when they had to go to the bathroom, to which they handed her over to the other. Tino watched with sad eyes, Berwald was angry with his deep ocean eyes hardening, and Emil wanted to strangle the two humans with fish, along with Mr. Puffin, who had actually grown overprotective of the toddler nation ever since her Hanata incident. Peter was curled up next to Tino, wanting to comfort and entertain his little cousin, but she needed the Norwegian and Dane and he respected that.

When Mathias, Emil, Berwald and Peter arrived home, they found Tino and Lukas discussing something in the kitchen as their littlest nation was curled up on the couch asleep. Tears were evident on her moist cheeks and her breathing was slightly raspy. Mathias was concerned and went straight for the kitchen, the others following. Lukas was chewing on his nails and Tino was drinking coffee. It was serious because _Tino never drank coffee at 3 in the afternoon._

After the two told the story of their encounter with Amalia's abusive 'family', the three looked murderous, angry, and suddenly very protective. Then they heard sniffling at the doorway and turned to see their youngest bawling.

"Th-They're gonna get me," was all she said before her papa scooped her up and cradled her close. She sobbed and cried until all her anxiety and fear was nearly gone.

Amalia stayed in her footsies, which she grew accustomed to since it was like playing dress up, but in comfortable clothes, wrapped in her blanket, carried around by either her daddy or papa. She was quiet, either staring at nothing, staring at the TV or asleep. Being asleep didn't last long until the nightmares came around. Their visit had destroyed all progress the Nordics plus one had made with Amalia.

Mr. Puffin allowed her to snuggle him when she woke from a short nap to calm her down. He never made one odd or rude comment. Hanata stayed calm on Tino's lap, head down with despair, feeling it from her owner. Even the animals knew something was very wrong.

Amalia refused to sleep alone that night, fearful that they'd come in through the windows and she'd be powerless against them. She clung tightly to Mathias, who had been holding her last, and shook her head incessantly. She whispered 'No' a thousand time, as though her need hadn't been heard.

"Sh, it's okay, _lille en_. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you," the reassuring continued until she had gone back to sleep. It took a full sippy cup of warm milk and rocking with sweet words until she was out. She nearly refused sleep all together, not wanting to face those nightmares.

Hoping, _praying_ , she wouldn't get any nightmares, the Dane settled both of them down on his bed and tugged the covers over both of them, before turning out the light. He slipped his arm around the toddler's waist and pulled her close to his chest. She hummed in her sleep, head nuzzling further into the warmth. Mathias smiled, kissed her head and fell unconscious blissfully.

* * *

Three days later. Amalia lost hours of precious sleep to the haunting memories and fearful scenarios. She didn't want to eat, no matter how much Tino coaxed her or Mathias promised her something if she did. Her stomach churned unrelentlessly. Her body was beginning to lose all energy. She didn't want to leave whoever's bed she slept in the night before and didn't want to play any games Peter offered, not even her puzzles she had been so excited to finish. She was turning into a hollow shell of a child.

The illness began that morning starting with a coughing fit and achy throat, then came the dry heaving. She sweat profusely and shivered like it was -10 degrees in the house. Lukas had taken the day off, switching with Berwald for his day with Amalia. The Swede understood the Norwegian's worry and allowed the schedule change. He was behind on paperwork anyways and the girl needed someone she was more attached to.

So with daddy taking care of her, Amalia's day wasn't so bad. He read stories to her and watched TV with her. He took good care of her, fretting every time she began to cough. She smiled lightly at his constant questions and giggled, saying, "I'm okay, Daddy. I'm just sleepy."

Peter had gone with Tino to the Finnish government building where the nation did most of his work. He wasn't one for bringing work home to his family. Peter didn't want to bother Amalia and force her to play with him. He wanted her better fast and not stuck in her deep ditch. If he had enough courage, he would've told any of the Nordics police force about the couple.

Lukas had just switched out Amalia's cool washcloth when the doorbell rang. Cautiously, he tucked the blanket back up on the girl and strided to the door. When he opened it, he was quite surprised who was on the other side.

" _Preussen, Spania_ ," he greeted the two. "A pleasure to see you. May I ask what has brought you here?"

Two-thirds of a certain trio smiled at the Norwegian. The Prussian and Spaniard were clad in their winter apparel, prepared for the harsh snow storms in the northern part of Europe. Their cheeks were reddened, but their bodies didn't shiver under the freezing temperatures. A red car was parked in front of the house, meaning the Spaniard had driven and there was actually a reason why they were there.

"We heard about your new little nation, _Norwegen_ ," Gilbert answered.

" _Prusia_ was curious as to who the little _chico_ is," Antonio interpreted for his friend.

"Of course," the Norwegian deadpanned. Lukas stepped back and allowed them entry into the large house. The guests shed their coats and set them on the coat rack, along with their snowy shoes. Proper guests in another's home, which was a new for the Prussian.

Gilbert and Antonio's ears perked when they heard someone coughing, hacking like something was stuck in their throat, from the television room. Lukas looked to the room displeased. Just because the tiny country said she was okay didn't mean she was, which made him worry dramatically.

"Daddy~!" they heard a little exclamation. The three turned to the doorway and found a little girl wearing duck footie pajamas and a blanket around her shoulders, towel looking as though it was attached to her forehead. Her cheeks and nose were bright red, but not from the freezing cold, and her eyelids drooped with exhaustion, along with her shoulders. Her attention seemed fixed on the blond male, going up and taking his hand, proceeding to drag him out of the room.

" _Liten pingvin,_ is everything alright? What happened?" he questioned, allowing her to bring him wherever she needed him. He hoped the guests didn't mess with their stuff.

"Bathroom," was all she answered, dragging her feet against the carpet. Lukas sighed, seeming to get the idea immediately that _something_ wrong happened. He just hoped it wasn't bad.

Once they arrived at the downstairs lavatory, Amalia sat on the closed lid of the toilet. Lukas looked confused. She looked up at him with dullish blue eyes, shaking her head. "You don't want to see it. It nasty, Daddy."

"Then why are we here?" he questioned.

"I still don't feel good…" she trailed, hopping up, opening the lid and repeating the process of emptying her stomach acids. She hadn't had much to eat, except some crackers and soup. Lukas's concern increased as he pulled her chin length hair away, rubbing her back comfortingly. She couldn't continue like this. Sooner or later, all progress they made would flow down the drain and Amalia would revert back to her obedient, silent stage.

"It's okay, _liten pingvin._ You're going to be okay," he whispered in her ear as he carried Amalia out and into the family room. The guests were sitting in the unoccupied seats, but stood when they entered the room.

"Little… _chica_?" the Spaniard blinked in surprise, having expected a boy nation, since they were more common than female.

"Why is she so sick? Her country isn't falling apart already has it?!" the Prussian piped up, asking with concern that normally he only used for his brother.

"No, her country is fine. We've come across some… problems and her illness is a result," Lukas answered, taking back the two. Usually, he spoke in a harsh, emotionless voice to them, and normally wouldn't have invited them into his house. They were surprised by the latter.

"So… what's the _kleine Mädchen_ name?" Gilbert inquired, stepping closer to the two.

"Amalia, though we haven't figured out a last name yet," the Norwegian said, rubbing the girl's back as she fisted his shirt.

"And country?" Antonio asked, tilting his head curiously.

"Greenland."

The two shared a look, before turning back at Lukas. "Isn't she technically a North American country?"

"Geographically, yes, but Den found the land, before Alfred or Matthew, making her his family."

"Did you do a DNA check, _muchacho_?" Antonio asked.

Lukas shook his blond head. "No, not yet. We have a few things to settle before doing that."

"And… daddy?" Gilbert questioned, but not teasingly like normal. His obnoxious self, like Mathias, had been put away around the hesitant, small girl.

"Titles we received after we found her. She sees Den and I like fathers, Fin and Sve like uncles and Ice like a brother."

"Quite unique, but it's cute," Antonio commented.

"Is she going to be at the next-"

"Maybe," the blond cut off, before the albino could question, knowing what he was asking. "If this situation does come to a solution."

There was a heavy tension settling on their shoulders, the two noticed by the dark gleam in Lukas's eyes. However, it wasn't directed at them. "We should probably get back. We left Franny alone for too long and Arthur said he was visiting, so you know those two," the brunette chuckled.

"Ja, but do you mind if we see her pretty face before we leave?" Gilbert asked, internally hoping they'd catch her appearance before they left. She had been too quick at the door for them to catch her looks.

The north nation hesitated slightly, but knew the two were practically harmless, unless they had a beer or twenty. Gently, he coaxed the sick nation in his arms, whispering promises into her ear and how nice the two other countries were.

Her curly head slowly turned to look at them and they caught her eyes immediately. They were gorgeous; a mixture between albicant and azure. They were such winter colours, which fit the baby country's description on the bull's eye. Her tiny pale rose lips were parted as soft breaths escaped from her throat, and her cheeks were heated with a fever. Dark crescents hung under her eyes, which gave them a small idea of the trouble and stress she was going through. There was a small scar above and to the left of her left ear and they wondered what kind of past she went through.

"She's…"

" _Muy hermosa_. Bella would have a field day playing with the little _chica_ ," the spanish speaking man chuckled, cautiously holding a hand out to the girl. " _Hola!_ My name is Spain, but you may call me Toni," he greeted with a large, friendly grin.

Amalia swallowed and slowly held out her own bony hand, which the albino saw instantly, but he kept it unregistered on his face. The last thing he needed was Lukas to pound his head for his reaction. He was more so concerned than curious for the little girl.

" _H-Hej_. Y-You can call me Amma," she whispered, before withdrawing her hand and tucking it between her body and her daddy's.

"A pleasure to meet a beautiful _chica_ as yourself," Antonio winked playfully. Her lips quirked slightly and it had been the closest to a smile since the incident.

"And I am the awesome Prussia, or Gilbert as you can call me," the albino interrupted boasting with a smile too.

Amalia didn't flinch like she did with Peter, but showed a bit of teeth with her lips upturned. The two-thirds of the trio were funny and goofy without trying much. She sat up straighter, barely noticeable, unless you were holding her, which Lukas was doing. He was kind of shocked the two didn't do anything bad like their reputation held, but then he remembered both had raised two other nations, Germany and South Italy, or Ludwig and Lovino.

"Where's Spain and P… Pr-us-sia?" she pronounced, to make sure she didn't say it wrong accidentally and disrespecting the albino man.

"Down south, _chica_ , just before you leave Europe," Antonio replied.

Amalia turned to Lukas and stared with large, tired eyes. "Can we visit, Daddy?"

A raised brow, the Norwegian glanced at the older two, before back at the little girl. He thought for a moment. "Maybe later, when you're much better," he said. She nodded.

Antonio twitched a little and reached into his pocket, pulling his phone out and reading it. He cringed slightly. "We have to go, Gil. Arthur's been attacked by the French," he announced.

Gilbert cackled his signature 'kesesese' and dipped his head to Lukas. " _Danke_ for letting us visit, Norge. We'll have to visit again soon. Make sure this little cutie is feeling better," he said, winking at the small child, before going with Antonio to put their snow coats and boots back on.

Lukas set Amalia back down on the couch, tucking the blanket around her trembling body and handing her the remote to the TV. He went to see his guests out.

"You'll keep up updated, right? She's a cutie, and we want to know if she's okay," the Spaniard requested politely, shoving his mitts back on.

Lukas nodded. "Alright. I'll have Mathias tell one of you. Thank you for being kind and patient with her," he said, bowing his head.

"Oh, she's precious, Norge. And we can see she's been through tough times. Strong girl for being so small," Gilbert smirked. " _Auf Wiedersehen!"_

" _Adios, muchacho!"_ called Antonio as they dashed for the red buggy.

Lukas shook his head, face still stoic as he shut the door. The two were as amusing as Emil when he's trying to take the refrigerator to his room. He turned back to take care of Amalia, hearing her coughs get rougher in sound, and make sure she feels loved as they cuddled and watched movies.

The rest of the Nordics and Peter arrived home half an hour before six o'clock and Peter seemed to be the only one with energy. Mathias was constantly yawning, Emil's eyes were drooping, Berwald's shoulders were slumped, and Tino was using the man's arm as a pillow. Lukas looked up from his spot behind Amalia on the couch, laying sideways.

"You all look like rainbows and fairies," he commented, lips still straight as they plopped down on the couches around them. Mathias took the extra area on Amalia and Lukas's couch, Emil took Mathias's chair, Berwald and Tino took the loveseat. Peter was happily bouncing around talking about the day at the office, ranting about how a lady got him hot chocolate and colouring pages.

Amalia woke from her deep, sickness induced slumber and blearily looked at her family. She yawned into her sleeve and leaned back against her daddy.

"Feel better, _liten pingvin?"_

She shrugged sleepily. "I want food, Daddy," Amalia muttered.

"Oh!" Peter jumped up and knelt down in front of her. "I can make something for you, Ams! What do you want to eat?"

"Anything you make, Sea, will be good," she answered, giggling. Peter blushed, but nodded and dragged his surrogate parents to the kitchen to help him.

After dinner was made an hour later, Peter and Amalia wanted to play a game with the family, so Mathias brought out a game he hadn't opened yet. It was a gift from a few Christmases ago, but never got the chance at playing it since he never had anyone to play with. No one except Emil knew how to play since he played with the Asian nations once when over at Yao's house. It had been a real competition. Kiku won.

The doorbell rang for the second time that day. Lukas growled at people's bothersome attitudes. He just wanted some time of peace with his brothers and little Greenland. He got up from their game of Monopoly, a game Alfred had recommended and Peter wanted to play, and went to get the door again.

He opened it, expecting another country because they are the only people who ever visit the Nordic house, and prepared a speech to leave them be, but instead he was met with two police officers, both looking grave and very apologetic.

"Jessen, Lund," Lukas greeted, knowing the two officers very well. Mathias had insisted on taking him to the station and had learned every police officers' name that day somehow remembering each of them. "What can I help you with?"

Jessen cleared his throat. "There's been some… legal issues, Mr. Norway."

Lund pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to the nation. Norway, forehead pinched slightly, took it gently and read it over, his eyes slowly widening. He glanced back up at the officers. "This can't be right."

"Sadly, Mr. Norway, Denmark's boss ordered it to clear things up. They weren't convinced she was what you claimed her to be and ordered a court date. We were sent to deliver the message is all," Lund explained. "We are really sorry, Mr. Norway. If there was and is anything we can do, simply ask and we will assist you and your family."

The Norwegian nodded and watched as they headed back to their police vehicle, before walking back inside. He stared at the court order in his hands as he went into the kitchen. He heard loud claims from Mathias, giggles from Amalia and groans from Emil. He couldn't take his eyes off the paper, standing in the doorway.

Tino was the first to notice. "Norge? Is everything okay? Who was it?" he questioned cautiously, seeing the small crack of emotion seep from the nation.

Blue eyes traveled up from the yellow slip, slightly larger than his normal stoic self, causing the rest of them to notice the ghost pale skin and sickening look on Lukas's face.

"Daddy?"

"Hej, Nor," Mathias waved a hand. "What's in your hand?" He stood from his seat and stopped in front of Lukas, taking the piece of paper and reading it himself. Soon, he was identical to the Norwegian and gulped roughly.

"It's a court order," he announced, looking at the scared faces of his brothers and the confused one of his daughter's. "It set for three days."

"But for what?" Peter inquired, kneeling on his seat, abandoning the game cards in his hands.

"For the custody of Amalia."

* * *

 **Translations**

 _German_

kleine Mädchen _-_ Little Girl

 _Spanish_

Muy Hermosa - Very Beautiful

* * *

 **There are a few other spanish words, but they're basic.**

 **ANYWAYS apologies for the late update. Finals are coming up and I have a big AP test. I'll try to post as much as possible in May**


	6. December 10

**Little Nordic**

 _December 10_

* * *

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know… they found her. How? We literally live in the middle of nowhere with four other houses. We found her miles from here, all the way from Albertslund."

"They could've seen her when we went out and decided to face us away from public eye."

"They obviously don't know we're countries. They wouldn't have threatened us. Especially knowing our past."

"They are not our top priority. Amalia's safety and health comes first."

Said girl began to cough, waking up from her slumber. "Papa? Daddy?"

Mathias and Lukas turned to her. They were sitting at the end of the Norwegian's bed, the owner with his legs on the bed trunk and the other sitting Indian style. Amalia herself was curled up with her head on Lukas's pillow and tucked under the covers, shivering from the sudden cold when she sat up. The sun wasn't up quite yet, but first light started peeking through the curtains.

The little country slowly crawled down to them, sitting between the two older nations. Yawning, gaining tiny tears out the corner of her eyes, she cuddled close to the smaller man as he wrapped her in her blanket.

" _God morgen, liten pingvin_ ," the Norwegian said quietly.

" _God morgen_ , Daddy. Are you okay?" Cerulean eyes looked up with worry. Lukas and Mathias never talked one on one, especially not that early in the morning. The Dane also wasn't so quiet and calm as he was then. He looked like a puppy that was kicked to the curb, which Amalia didn't understand why he looked so upset.

"We're fine. We were just talking," Lukas replied, curling his arm behind her back, keeping her close.

"What about?" Amalia inquired, tilting her head.

"About your parents," Mathias said, clasping his hands between his thighs.

She dropped her head, keeping her eyes to the floor. "You shouldn't call them that," her voice was barely a whisper.

"Why not?"

The Greenlandic girl smiled. "Because you're my parents. You're my Papa and Daddy. Not those hurtful people," she answered, nuzzling her face in Lukas's side. "You're my family."

Mathias's lips turned into a wide grin, looking up at Lukas, who, to his surprise, was smiling, even if it was so small. Lukas hadn't smiled before Amalia came about, but now, the Dane would see small hints of a smile on the Norge's lips when he was around Amalia. He was getting softer.

"We'll always be your family. No matter what. No matter where you are. No matter your age. We'll always be there for you," Mathias promised.

She giggled. " _God!"_ Amalia's stomach decided to acknowledge its emptiness at that moment. A blush rose on her cheeks. "Uh…"

Mathias chuckled and Lukas breathed out sharply. "How about we make breakfast?" the former said, pushing off the edge and standing.

"You mean you cook and we watch?" the Norwegian quirked a brow, standing with Amalia on his hip. He followed the skipping Dane out of the room, down the hall, having to shush him multiple times to remind him the other four occupants were still sleeping, and arrived at the kitchen.

"Papa's really loud, Daddy," Amalia whispered as she was set on an island stool. She sniffled and her cold was thick in her voice, making it sound like she was plugging her nose. She sounded awful and all Mathias wanted to do was take the sickness out of his bright, adopted daughter.

"Yes, he is, but he is also making breakfast," Lukas responded, earning a cackle from the Dane with his head stuck in the fridge.

"That's because you nearly blew up a raw fish in the toaster. The toaster!" Mathias teased, bringing three eggs and the milk out.

Lukas's lips curled into a sneer, most likely trying to cover up the embarrassed blush growing on his cheeks. "Dumb Dane…"

"Not denying~"

"I like my food not burnt and not alive," he deadpanned.

"God Bless that Arthur isn't here."

Amalia giggled at their arguing. It was always entertaining for her to watch the two fight because they were total opposites. The Danish man was upbeat, happy and full of glee, whereas the Norwegian was still, emotionless and always sounding irritated.

Mathias grinned. "What shall we make on this early morn?"

"Pancakes, but Uncle Sve's pancakes," Amalia specified. The food choice had always been promised to her, but the fluffy heaven hadn't actually been made since she arrived.

"Swedish pancakes coming right up!" the Dane cheered, throwing on his apron and beginning the cooking process.

Throughout the time, the small family was chatting about. The ill girl had started talking about her small lessons she received from Peter and Tino. School wasn't an option yet due to her adjusting and arising situation, so the two had promised to help. She talked animatedly about the things she was taught, which they were oddly intrigued by it, then she asked Mathias about work, who thoroughly complained about boss who seemed to leave the country every other week. It caused the nation to receive more work on his end. Amalia then asked Lukas the same question, which he answered that he 'didn't have a lot since he didn't procrastinating like the stupid Dane.' It created another word battle.

It started to get heated, until Lukas looked away and suddenly went quiet. It made the little nation confused. She turned to Mathias, whose brows were furrowed and his eyes kept dancing to Lukas. Did she miss something important? She hadn't paid much attention to their war, so she probably missed something.

An hour later, TIno and Berwald sauntered into the kitchen. Lukas had a cup of coffee pre-made for the smaller male in his hand. The drowsy Fin took it and slowly drank it at the kitchen table. Amalia giggled. He definitely wasn't a morning person like his chipper personality suggested. Berwald was more awake, having started helping Mathias with breakfast.

Slowly, Tino's mood began to brighten as he began to pet Amalia's curly hair, having moved to the island chair next to her. Amalia, sniffling and coughing every once and awhile, curled into his side as they waited impatiently for food. She begged Papa to hurry, earning noises of amusement from the other three and a reassuring comment from the tall Dane.

Emil came down just before the pancakes were done, clad in loose plaid pants and a black shirt. His hair was a bedhead mess sticking to one side and he obviously slept pretty heavy with the lines on his face and the exposed part of his arms. Mr. Puffin was sitting on his head, eyes closed. He was still sleepy.

" _God morgen_ , big brother," the Greenlandic girl rasped, having finished off a coughing fit.

"Morning. Still ill?" he questioned, sitting down at the kitchen table, one brow raised. Apple juice, orange juice, tea, and coffee were already on the table, along with silverware, so he poured himself a glass of the orange drink.

"Just a little," she answered, bouncing down her chair and sitting next to the Icelandic boy. "Mr. Puff still sleepy?"

The bird didn't even reply, keeping still on the albino hair. "I guess so. You're usually asleep yourself," Emil commented.

Amalia frowned. "I had bad dream," she explained, wringing her hands and looking to the floor.

Emil didn't like seeing her so sad and depressed. It didn't suit her because he always saw her as this light bulb that never died. She was always upbeat and happy. She made him smile and laugh with her hidden goofiness. When they found her, he hoped he'd never see that hopeless, fearful look again.

"Did you talk about it?" She shook her head. "Do you want to?" Again, same response. "Do you know it's not real?"

For this question, she hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding and wiping away stray tears. Emil smiled, pushing away a bang in front of her face. "Always remember that we will always be there for you and will never let anyone hurt you," he promised.

Amalia nodded and squeaked when she was picked up. Emil's chuckle echoed warmly in her ear. She leaned into his chest as his arms held her waist.

"Daddy, may I please have a cup?" Her manners had been engraved into her little skull since the start of her abuse. Never a 'Give me!' or 'No! I don't want to!', any other commands a child would say. She would've been punished if she did.

Lukas leaned over and placed one of her sippy cups in front of her, full to the brim with apple juice. " _Tak_ , Daddy!" she said, kissing his beardless cheek.

To say the Norwegian was surprised would be an understatement. He had not been expecting that action at all. The move had been unpredictable and Lukas hadn't received any affection from her, besides cuddles. He didn't not like it, per say. More like didn't see it coming. It actually gave him a tingly, warm feeling in his heart.

" _Din velkommen, liten pingvin,_ " he said evenly then went back to help set the food.

Tino sat in his usual seat next to Berwald with his cup of coffee and a warm smile. Lukas, Mathias and Berwald set the eggs, fruits, and pancakes on the table, along with the necessary additions of condiments.

After breakfast, which was loud, as per usual, Amalia went to the family room and found her surrogate cousin curled up on the couch drowsily watching TV.

"There's leftovers if you want 'em," she announced, standing off to the side so he could still see the screen. He turned to her and sat up. "You slept in awfully late."

"Uncle Den's snoring kept me up," Peter answered the unasked 'why?' as he stood from the couch. It was a lie, but Peter couldn't tell her the real reason he couldn't sleep. He couldn't tell her that her screams and cries from waking up from a nightmare kept him up worrying and pacing about his room fearfully.

"Oh… well, Uncle Fin's wrapping the food if you wanna get some," Amalia said with a feigned smile, displeased with his grumbling mood.

Peter returned the gesture and ruffled her hair, before walking to the kitchen. The smile on the small nation's face fell as she watched him go. Peter's behavior worried her greatly because, though he slept a lot, he didn't sleep, she could hear him in the middle of the night, he missed breakfast and never sounded irritated or tired. He usually had the same attitude as Tino after the older male drank coffee, but today was different.

Curious, Amalia snuck over and listened to the Nordics plus one conversation.

"You can go back," she heard Berwald.

"No! I like it here! Besides, Big Jerk is dealing with Big Brother Alfred."

"How can we solve this problem if you don't want to leave?"

"She doesn't need anything else to worry about, Petey. She's already suffering."

"I know! I know."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but I can't tell Am that I can't sleep because of her screaming."

Amalia's icy eyes enlarged as she realized what was wrong with her cousin, why he was acting so strange. Her nightmares had kept her up, she knew, but it was affecting her family too. She hadn't realized that she was hurting her family indirectly. She didn't realized that she was a… burden.

Tears grew, blurring her vision as she ran away from the kitchen. She stumbled up the stairs and to her bedroom. Her breaths were quick as panic settled in her chest, and her body moved on its own accord. She saw black, a dark, gloomy room. She couldn't see much, but things were clacking against each other and others were falling.

She glanced around the room. She found one place that had always been punishment to her in her old house, a place her mother locked her in frequently, ending with the result of her claustrophobia.

The closet.

Though the girl hated small spaces, with survival instincts running, she thought she was being a bad girl and needed punishment. She was bad. She didn't think about the others in the house, only about herself. She was being selfish and had confided into Mathias and Lukas, but never cared to ask about themselves. Her parents were right. She was a burden, a hassle, a disgrace, useless and pathetic. She didn't deserve to live, especially not with such nice, wonderful people. Nation or not, she was weak and no other nation even knew she was personified. No one knew she existed.

Her body had numbed and her adrenaline decreased, tears finishing their descent down her face, cheeks sticky and rough. Her limbs shook and her nose ran, making her sniff back snot. She was curled in the corner of her closet, which was big to begin with, but her overwhelming fear of tight spaces still remained with her. It wasn't a walk-in, but held enough room for her clothes and shoes, what little she owned. Darkness swam around her, dancing around with quiet. It frightened her, but instincts running through her mind, she thought if she made noise, her mother would come back to beat her again.

~!~

Peter sighed heavily, burping as a bubble climbed up his throat. Mathias's pancakes had been surprisingly stupendous. They were filling and sweet, even after being heated up. He skipped out to the family room and expected to see Amalia sitting on the couch watching TV.

"Huh?" he tilted his head and noticed that the baby country wasn't anywhere in the room, but her blanket was abandoned on the ground by the couch. "Ams?" he called, picking up the soft object. He turned to the TV, that continued to play the channel he had turned to earlier. She hadn't changed the channel, nor had she touched the remote. "Amma!"

"Sea? What's wrong?" Emil questioned, coming into the room. "Why are you yelling?"

"I-I don't know where Ams is!" he stammered, clutching the blanket in his hands.

Emil grasped the micro nation's shoulders. "Woah, Sea, calm down. I'm sure she's still in the house. The door didn't open to the outside and her shoes are still here. Why don't we tell Den and go search?" he suggested, oddly calm about the situation. He was concerned because Amalia usually told them where she was and never left her blanket behind, unless it's a meal or bathtime. He was internally panicking.

Peter nodded and followed Emil into the kitchen again. After explaining the problem to the other Nordics, Mathias went to help them look, while the other three said they needed to get ready for the day. Sadly, they all promised their bosses they'd be at work that day and couldn't help look for the little girl.

"Amma!" the Dane of the family called, walking around the house. He looked in closets, rooms, trunks, everywhere. Bathrooms, bedrooms, cupboards. He couldn't find her. After ten minutes, he found Emil and Peter back on the couch, looking frustrated and scared.

"Where could she be?" Peter asked with exasperation, turning upside down.

"We checked downstairs," Emil said, arms crossed over his chest.

"And upstairs!" added the younger boy.

"Did either of you check her room?" Mathias questioned.

By their shared looks, they didn't. The elder sighed. "I'll go check," he said, trudging his feet back upstairs and to the little nation's room. He hadn't expected the scene in front of him. It was near replica of Hanata's incident. Things were thrown, broken or damaged. Stuffed animals were strewn across the carpet, the bed was unmade and art supplies was everywhere. Luckily, Peter had the notorious blanket so it wasn't part of the mess.

Mathias shivered at the eerie feeling, like the feeling he got when he watched one of Alfred's horror movies. He slowly moved into the room and eyes scanned for the owner.

"Ams?"

No response, no sound, no shuffle, no breath. He had no clue if she was still in her room or not, but she had been there that was for sure. Everything was too still and it was scaring the Danish man slightly.

"Amalia?" he called again. "Come on out. I won't hurt you. I just want to talk."

There was shuffling from the closet, so he walked over and opened it gently. Gasping, he found the little girl staring at him with fright from the left corner of the closet. Her cheeks glistened with dry tears, and she looked absolutely exhausted with dark circles under her eyes and her skin ghostly pale. Her body was quaking as she curled into herself. A small whine escaped her throat and she internally cursed the noise.

" _Hej,_ Amalia, _det er i orden, hom ud_ ," he gently uttered, holding his large hand out to her.

She shook her head, then flinched, beginning to hyperventilate. Her mouth opened and a rush of Danish words spewed out, most Mathias caught. They were along the lines of 'Sorry! Don't hurt me!' and 'I swear I didn't make any noise!' and Mathias figured that something triggered her PTSD. It caused her instincts to go back to the time before they found her, the time of her abuse and suffering. The time of her worst fears and on edge attitude. The abandonment and loneliness.

Mathias crawled in and took her in his arms, murmuring a small lullaby under his breath. She freaked slightly, but calmed slowly at the sound of her papa's voice. She opened throbbing eyelids to stare fearfully up at him, as though he would attack her at any second. Her breaths were still too fast for Mathias's liking, but gradually, she was calming down.

"Now, what's this all about, _min kære?"_ he questioned, setting both of them on her bed, after readjusting the bedspread.

Amalia avoided all eye contact and seemed to stay away from her papa's touch. "Nothing," was the muttered reply. No one would buy that, not even Heracles, who was usually sleeping or obliviously cuddling his cats.

"Amma, I know that's not true. What happened? Did someone say something to you? Hanata or Mr. Puffin eat another picture?" he questioned, coaxing the answer out of her.

She hiccuped and scrubbed her face of the faucet in her eyes, tears continuing their journey out of her spout. "No, Papa. Hanata and Mr. Puffin didn't do anything," Amalia mumbled, not looking at his gleaming blue eyes that stared deeply at her with such worry.

"Amalia…" his voice was low with warning. It was something important to her. It was hurting her and he was hurt that she didn't trust him enough to say why. "Tell me. I only want to help you and I can see that you're not okay."

The Greenlandic girl whimpered, thoughts going back to the issue at hand, memories running full throttle. How was she supposed to tell Mathias that his nephew's words had gotten to her? He loved the micronation and knew him longer than herself. Peter was more important to the Nordics than the weak, pathetic little nation that came into their lives just a few weeks ago. She wasn't as attached to them spiritually or emotionally as Peter was.

"I swear, Papa. There's nothing," she promised, a sudden aching in her chest as she lied to him. She didn't like doing mean things to them because they had been kind to her the whole time. They had been nothing but considerate and caring.

Mathias sighed heavily, knowing she wouldn't crack so easily, even if it was damaging her mentally and emotionally. He wanted to help her, but couldn't if she didn't say what was wrong.

"If you're not going to say, then let's clean up this mess before Nor sees, ja?" the Dane suggested, setting her trembling body down and watched as she nodded and bent down to pick up an opened, upside down story book.

He shook his blond head, before following her lead. He would later find out that she had no idea the damage she had done to her own room. Within fifteen minutes, her room was spotless and it was then that the little girl panicked, having not found her blanket.

"Papa! Where _tæppe?_ Where _tæppe!"_ she cried, rushing around the room and ducking every place the blanket could fit. " _Tæppe!"_

"Woah! Woah, Ams! It's okay! _Tæppe_ is with Peter. You dropped it in the family room, remember?" Mathias asked soothingly, kneeling down and holding her bare hands. Not two minutes went by from her realization and she was shivering in panic.

Amalia took a deep breath, but furrowed her brows in confusion. She actually didn't remember where she had left her blanket when she fled the room. Everything had been a black out, her memory gone. She didn't even know she trashed her own room until Mathias brought her out from the closet.

"J-Ja. I remember," she replied hesitantly, causing Mathias to worry. She told an obvious fib and he wasn't too assured or happy.

"Why don't we go and tell everyone you're okay?"

"Stupid Dane! We're leaving!" Lukas shouted up to them, echoing through the halls.

"Coming, Nor!" Mathias called back, tossing up and catching the girl when she dropped back down. He earned a squeal of laughter from the squirmy child, who climbed onto his back, arms around his neck. "We ride!" he cheered, taking off out of the room and down the hall. Giggles and pants were hot in his ear, but it gave him warmth because she wasn't sad anymore.

"Did you find her?" Tino asked, standing from the couch as the two jumped down the stairs. He was wearing a sweater with a nice shirt underneath and black slacks.

"Yes, I did. We were just talking," the Danish man answered.

"About time," Lukas grumbled, taking the girl off Mathias's shoulders and hugging her close, having been so worried about her whereabouts. Amalia responded by squishing her cheek into his. "Be good, ja?"

"Ja, Daddy. I'll look after Papa."

" _Hej!"_

The two chuckled together as the elder nation set the girl down. Amalia looked over and saw Peter jump up and hug Tino and Berwald, while Emil was casually laying on the couch with Mr. Puffin at his side, watching. Amalia downcasted, face falling to the floor as her heart hurt with a sharp pang. Peter had been holding her blanket, before he stood to say goodbye and dropped it on Emil's sweatpant clad legs.

Amalia looked up startled when someone knelt next to her. Lukas looked at her with calculating eyes, knowing something was wrong with her and that she was afraid to say what. Her cerulean eyes stared back at him intensely, questioning. His eyebrow twitched slightly up, signalling they'd talk later. She didn't look so happy, but nodded anyway, knowing it would be okay and there was no way she could get out of talking to her daddy.

"Come on, Norge, before we're late," Tino urged.

"Go start the car. I'll be there in a minute," the Norwegian replied.

The Finnish man glanced at him then Mathias, before nodding and shooing Berwald out of the house. Lukas sucked in a breath and walked into the foyer, Mathias followed with concern and curiosity. Amalia tilted her head and quietly stood at the doorway. Peter and Emil were back on the couch watching television.

"Nor, is everything okay?" the Dane inquired, standing two feet from the dressed up man.

"Den… about our names to Amalia…" he trailed, unsure how to say what he wanted. Showing emotion wasn't something he did, let alone speak them.

Mathias chuckled. "She is sweet, isn't she? Though I'm quite surprised that-"

He was cut off by Lukas's lips on his own. The baby nation at the doorway gasped quietly, surprised that Lukas out of the two made the first move. Mathias was shocked for a second before kissing back, causing the other to blush heavily. The embrace didn't last long, before the shorter of the two broke and quickly fled the house without another word. He left the Danish man standing stunned in the foyer, staring at the wooden barrier.

"Papa?" Mathias jumped at the voice and turned to see Amalia at the doorway to the family room, looking curious. He cleared his throat and tried pushing down the light blush on his cheeks.

"Ja?" he bent down next to her.

"Did you like it?"

His baby blue eyes widened before he smirked and hauled her over his shoulder gaining a loud squeal and light flailing. "Like I'm going to say, you little squirt." Amalia laughed mercy and he stopped, holding her in his arms. "What do you want to do before lunch?"

Her eyes lit up excitedly. "Puzzle and music! Puzzle and music!" the baby country cheered, throwing her hands up. "But I want my blanket first."

"Peter stole it, ja?" Mathias teased, tickling her side once.

Her eyes dimmed slightly. "Ja."

The two went into the family room and gathered her item, along with giving Emil a kiss on the cheek, before going up to her room. All morning, they danced and sang, played and solved their daily 500 piece puzzle, and overall had a fun, entertaining time. Amalia's cheeks hurt by the time lunch came around and she was exhausted.

"Looks like a nap will do you good," Emil commented from next to her at the counter, eating his own food. Amalia was yawning every few bites and nodding off onto his shoulder.

"Seems like someone had a lot of fun," Mathias added, rubbing her cheek with the side of his index finger.

"Papa made me happy. What wrong with that?' the little nation pouted playfully, dropping her fork and crossing her arms.

The two chuckled. "Nothing. Just cute. You usually are too hyper or reluctant to take a nap too," the elder answered. "Besides, it's good to have fun with me!"

Amalia smiled proudly, then looked to Peter, who sat on the other side of the Danish man, picking at his food. She was confused why he was so quiet and still. Why was he upset? Did _she_ do something wrong? She didn't remember doing anything.

After lunch and a surprisingly long nap, Amalia dragged her blanket and colouring pages with markers into the family room and plopped down on the floor. She was wearing striped pajama pants with a pullover from Lukas's closet as she laid on her stomach and doodled on her papers. Every once in awhile, she'd look up at the TV, a cop show Emil liked watching, and screamed when she figured out who the murderer was, amusing the Icelandic boy. Mathias was on his recliner with Peter tucked in his side sleeping, while the Dane worked on his laptop for work. The elder looked at him with some concern and was enthralled by Amalia.

Soon, Tino, Berwald, and Lukas arrived home. Tino immediately found Peter and silently looked at Mathias questioning. The Danish man rose his brows in response. Tino replied with a deflated face and trudged to the kitchen. Berwald and Mathias shared a look, before the former followed the short Finnish man. Lukas was attacked by a hug and an attached koala wearing his favorite sweatshirt which drowned her, hanging past her knees.

" _Alt i orden i dag?"_ he asked quietly, playing with her hair and narrowly missing Mathias's heated looks.

" _Pappa og jeg hadde det gøy hoppe og danse, og storebror la meg se hans show med ham_ ," she replied, hands in his clothes.

"Wait, you know Norwegian?" Emil raised a brow, looking with aquamarine eyes at the girl. As far as he remembered, her home language was Danish and old Greenlandic, along with English. Not Norwegian.

"Daddy's been teaching me some!" Amalia exclaimed with a large grin. "It's not so different from Danish, big brother!"

Emil rolled his eyes and groaned when Mr. Puffin came in squawking about fish. Amalia giggled and was suddenly being carried away. She twisted and found Lukas swiftly bringing her to his study, a room she's been in many times when her daddy had lots of work and couldn't play. She would keep him company, since she got lonely too.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Danish_

God Morgen - Good Morning

det er i orden, hom ud - It's alright, come on out

min kære - my dear

 _Norwegian_

Din velkommen, liten pingvin - You're Welcome, little penguin

Alt i orden i dag - Everything okay today?

Pappa og jeg hadde det gøy hoppe og danse, og storebror la meg se hans show med ham - Papa and I had fun dancing and playing, and big brother let me watch his show with him

* * *

 **Thank you so much for the few that actually reviewed. It makes me so happy and I literally squeal out loud by the wonderful messages.**

 **Here's chapter 6. I do have all the chapters written up to 10, but I have to reread them a thousand times before publishing because I am selfconscious of making a mistake in anything.**

 **I will post chapter 7 Saturday. Promise.**

 **And what's a family without the kids having drama between them?**

 **Love all you amazing readers!  
**

 **Black out!**


	7. December 13

**Little Nordic**

 _December 13_

* * *

The day set for the court came and all the Nordics plus two were nervous and fearful, even those who never showed their emotions outwardly. Berwald, Emil and Lukas had their own ways of physically showing their frustration and the only ones who knew how to interpret their emotions from actions were the two other Nordics and Peter and Amalia.

The previous days leading up to the suspenseful day were spent preparing Amalia for her testimony against her parents and having their newest lawyer, who was stupendous at his job, get ready for the case. The other members of their tiny family also mentally and emotionally prepared themselves for what was to come.

Amalia was restless and antsy. She wouldn't stop moving every chance she got. Her drawing activity decreased and her words were limited between the days. She had hardly anything to say and was nervous beyond comprehensibility. She had to face her parents again, she had go to in front of an authoritative figure and say that her newest family treated her right. They were better than that couple. It was simple. Still this bout of fear overwhelmed her. She had slept with both Lukas and Mathias the nights before because she needed to feel safe, needed to know everything was going to be okay.

 **[Warning: I do not know what the Danish laws or court details are so I'm using the American system since that is what I am. America :P]**

They stood in front of the building that waited her fate. She swallowed harshly, holding onto her blanket with one hand and the other hand held Mathias's. Emil was on her other side with Berwald and Tino, Peter standing between them. Lukas was standing close to Mathias's other side. They were a team, a family, and they would go down swinging.

"Promise me," Mathias started, causing her to look up. "Promise me whatever happens, you'll always love and remember us?"

Her icy eyes enlarged a fraction, before she nodded. "Promise. I also promise nothing will happen. They won't take me from my family!" she stated with a firm nod.

The men chuckled around her, then looked back up at the large challenge. They had been through many rough patches, but this was a first. They never had to fight one of their own's system to keep a baby country.

"Ready?"

"Nope," Emil sighed, gaining a giggle from the girl next to him. "Let's just get this over with. My show is on later."

"Can I watch it with you, big brother?" Amalia inquired as they began walking to the doors.

He smirked down at her. "Of course. We have to find out if they get together or not." He meant the two main characters, who obviously liked each other romantically.

She laughed again, adding a small bounce to her step as her brother cheered her spirits up greatly. Even with the simple sentence and approval.

For that certain occasion, Tino had made her wear her newest dress, a lilac, knee length dress with a big bow in the back and one inch sleeves on her shoulders. Overtop, she wore a black peacoat and a white, purple pom-pom hat on her curly head. She wasn't so comfortable in the dress, constantly pulling it down when she felt like it was riding up, but she was simply hating the dress and confined in it. She wore it only because it was proper, that's what Daddy said, and to make her uncle happy. He loved seeing her in dresses.

The nations walked down the halls, after checking in at reception for their courtroom number and details about the prosecution. They were countries and it was Mathias's boss that forced this matter on their hands with such short notice; they were going to demand information no human would receive. Plus, the receptionist oddly knew Tino and felt sorry for them, hoping they'd win, especially when she saw how they treated the little girl in their care. Many people of the law were confused why the case was legitimate, seeing as the nations never, ever got attached to a human before, definitely not a little girl.

The nations learned not to be attached to humans in their early centuries.

All seven of them couldn't sit at the defense table, so Amalia could only pick two of them to sit with her and their lawyer. Not surprising, she chose Mathias and Lukas, opting to sit on the former's lap. The court room was oddly filled, safe for a few half dozen seats empty. Mathias supposed that because it was him in the trial fighting, his people would want to see him win.

Amalia crushed her blanket in her hands and played with the nuk in her mouth. She had gotten into the habit of grinding and gnashing her teeth, so Emil's first suggestion was a pacifier, since she could easily grow out of it and not damage her pearly whites. She leaned back into Mathias's chest as his hand gently rubbed up and down her arm and the other held her waist. Lukas was blankly and discreetly observing the room and all people present.

Suddenly, the back doors opened, causing everyone in the room to turn around and watch as the prosecuting couple with their lawyer sauntered into the room and placed themselves down at their respective table. The two glared dangerously at the three adjacent to them, while their lawyer paid no mind to anything, but his papers.

"All rise!"

The whole court room stood, Mathias holding Amalia on his hip, as the judge entered the room and sat at his seat of authority. The Danish nation remembered this man, Abraham Westrup. For awhile, he was simply a behind the desk guy, but now, around the age of fifty, he was determining the fates of all Mathias's citizens. Quite well, might he add, with all the words he heard when at work. In addition, he knew the guy back when he was younger during hardships in the wars. They were old acquaintances.

"Sit down," Westrup grumbled, obviously hating the unneeded respect, especially since there were five nations, a micro nation and a to-be-determined nation in the room. "Afternoon, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Iceland and Sealand," he greeted, nodding at them and grinning fondly at Peter, who lit up when he was recognized. The judge then turned to the prosecution table. "Prosecution's opening statement?"

The lawyer stood, fixing one button on his suit, like they do in the movies, Amalia noted as she stared at them. Clearing his throat, the prosecution started.

"My clients had something precious taken away from them. Their little girl. Four years old and she disappeared one night just before dinner was set out. My clients came to me begging to help them find their daughter. With it being so close to Christmas, they wanted to be able to spend it in peace and happiness as a whole family. Doing some investigating, my clients, with the help of the police, found Amalia residing at the Nordics household just outside of Copenhagen. The nations themselves kidnapped their daughter and brainwashed her to believe she was also a country and she was their family. Thank you, that is all."

The man sat back down, earning nods of approval from the couple and a look of utter confusion from the defense lawyer. The statement was weak with very little details of anything.

"Defense opening statement."

Mikaelsen nodded and stood, without buttoning his jacket, Amalia cheered internally.

"My clients found Amalia in the snow with nothing but a large, dirty shirt and leggings late at night on their way home from a festival. No shoes, no jackets and covered in bruises, scars and cuts all over her body. She was malnourished, freezing, and beyond scared. They took her to their shared mansion outside of Copenhagen. They fed her, bathed her, treated her injuries and took care of her. Amalia was battered and abused in the household she was in, refusing to go anywhere but. With the Nordics she had a bed, caring people and was loved. She wasn't brainwashed or tricked. On her own free will, she decided to live with the Nordics because they are her family. That is all."

Mikaelsen sat down and received smiles from Amalia and Mathias, along with a nod from Lukas. He took a deep, shaky breath and waited for the judge's next word.

Westrup shifted slightly. "Prosecution's first witness."

"I call Jacob Olsen," the prosecution called, standing in front of the desks. The man of the accusing couple stood and went to the witness stand calmly, but not before his eyes met Amalia's and she shrunk into her papa. Mathias hushed her gently, a hand in her uncovered hair.

"Olsen," prosecution greeted. "Will you tell me about that night you lost your daughter?"

Lukas sneered, the action being caught by Mathias, who also wasn't too pleased by Amalia being called that monster's daughter.

Olsen cleared his throat. "I came home from work and Ingrid was making dinner, while… Amalia was playing in the family room. I went into the kitchen and sat at the table, dinner nearly ready, when the front door was suddenly opened and I heard her screams. We couldn't get her fast enough, the man had a mask and a gun, and took her out the door," he said, staring dead at the lawyer and glancing at the judge. Berwald narrowed his eyes further. He was good with reading body language since he was so quiet, he was observant. So it was an obvious lie because the man's hands did not move even an inch.

"And what was Amalia's reactions?"

"She screamed of course, crying out for us, trying to get away from him, but she is obviously so small and weak, she couldn't." It was a hidden insult, which made Amalia frown sadly. "We called the police immediately and the investigation started."

Mikaelsen shifted in his seat, causing Lukas to look over. He had something to say, he knew something was wrong and he wanted to fix it right away, but needed to wait for the cross-examination.

The questions continued for Olsen, but they were all lies and Amalia knew, the Nordics knew, _he_ knew. So much for that oath of truth.

"Cross-examine the witness?"

Mikaelson stood up abruptly and nodded. "Ja, sir." He walked up to Olsen, who furrowed his brows and began sweating. "Mr. Olsen, how did Amalia get the scars on her body?"

"W-Well, you know kids. They tend to play around and explore. She's an adventurer and has gotten herself into many messes," he answered.

"There's quite a few scars and marks on her body to be simply playing, don't you think, Mr. Olsen?"

The other lawyer pushed his chair back. "Objection. Badgering the witness."

"Denied," Westrup snapped, turning back to Mikaelsen. "Continue defense."

"Thank you, sir. Now, answer, Mr. Olsen," the attorney demanded.

"She's a silly kid!"

"That's not an answer."

"Okay… they're discipline scars. She's a disobedient child so that was the only way we first child parents thought was right," Olsen answered, causing Ingrid, his wife, to shake her head annoyed.

Mikaelsen hummed as he paced back and forth. He winked at Amalia when he turned to her, causing the little girl to ease her tight posture. "Mr. Olsen, you said you called the police immediately, correct?"

"Ja, we called them as soon as he was gone," Olsen replied.

"You didn't attempt to save your daughter?"

"No… I feared for my own life."

Mikaelsen stopped and smirked. "Most fathers would save their children before thinking about their own life. Anyways," he continued before Olsen could comment, "This man was wearing a mask, ja? Then you had to have seen his eyes, ja?"

"That's right."

"And the color?"

"… Green."

"If a man kidnapped her, how did she get to the Nordic household?"

"Objection!" the other lawyer shouted. "How is this related?"

"Pipe down, Raske, before I kick you out myself and this case is done with," Westrup growled threateningly. Raske sat back down.

"Well, one of them kidnapped her, of course!" Olsen exclaimed irritably.

"And which one of our beloved countries do you think kidnapped little Amalia? What do you think they gain from taking her?" Mikaelsen questioned, raising a brow.

Olsen was sweating, gulping roughly as his eyes searched each one of the irritated and overprotective nations' eyes. None of them were green. They were all blues and purples. No green!

"Uh… well. The one holding her of course! He's obviously wanting the money."

Mathias had reached his limit. He gently placed Amalia in Lukas's lap and stood up, making the chair fall to the floor on its side. Tino, Berwald, Emil, Lukas, and Peter, along with their lawyer, did not fear the dangerous aura surrounding the Danish man's body as he stalked up to the judge. It certainly frightened Amalia, but she knew how overprotective her father was.

"If I may, sir, please excuse me for awhile," he muttered through grinded teeth.

Westrup's own face was angry and beyond impatient. How dare that low level being disrespect such a childish, good-hearted nation like that? He nodded and allowed the nation to stomp through the back doors for a moment's cool. And most likely a rare cigarette.

"Mr. Olsen, need I remind you who that man you just insulted is. That is the man who protects this country and makes sure you get a job, along with a house. I would highly recommend keeping your trap shut," the judge warned.

Jacob sat his bottom back down on the chair and glared darkly at the judge, his wife's hand on his shoulder. It was keeping him grounded from launching at the judge with his fists. The anger in the man was boiling over and Amalia could tell by his reddening ears and his stiff jaw. She ducked into Lukas fearfully and his arm responded by wrapping tightly around her waist.

Witnesses came and went. Neighbors, relatives who Amalia had never met before, co-workers of Jacob's, a lot the Olsen couple called to help with the case. All Amalia had never met before, besides a few of the co-workers who had come over for a party once or twice, but other than that, not even her own 'uncles' did she recognized, nor did they recognize her. They only spoke on behalf of the couple. How ever many there were, none knew of the abuse that went on for nearly two years. The prosecution called Tino and Mathias up to the stand, when the Danish man came back. The prosecutor tried making it look like the two were guilty, but their stories lined up, not perfectly like the prosecution's clients, so no suspicions rose.

Eventually, Raske called Amalia up to the stand. The four year old swallowed, gripping her blanket fiercely as she hopped off Lukas's lap and stumbled to the stand. The room was dead silent as she got up and knelt on the chair in front of the microphone since she was too short. Icy eyes glanced at the soft face of Westrup, before staring at Raske.

"Amalia-"

"Miss."

The lawyer lifted a brow, confused at the interruption. "Excuse me?"

"You call everyone else mister or misses, but you call me by my name. It's not fair," she explained, lips keeping down in a displeased frown, yet felt a swelling warmth when she saw Tino and Peter holding back their laughter.

Raske clenched his jaw, tongue running along his top teeth. "Judge?"

"She has a point, Mr. Raske," Westrup chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "It's quite impolite to not formally address a young lady."

Raske's ears reddened as he glared at the little girl, who shrunk further in her large seat. " _Miss_ Amalia, what happened that night? The last night you were in your house?" he questioned roughly.

"Uncle Fin put me to bed and Daddy sang me a song. It was a pretty song too," she answered.

Mathias and Tino couldn't help the spark of laughter escaping out from their throats. Lukas's lips were slightly turned up as he tried to quiet the Dane down. Same for Berwald, while Peter was confused.

"What night are you talking about, _Miss_ Amalia?" the lawyer asked, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

"Last night 'cause you asked about the last night at my house. My house is with Daddy and Papa," Amalia answered truthfully. The audience laughed and cooed at her innocence.

Raske looked angry, shifting his jaw and clearing his throat. He paced furiously. "Miss Amalia, I meant at the Olsen house," he clarified.

The four year old's face fell. "Oh… we-well, um…" Her blue eyes glanced at the judge hesitantly. She looked at her family, most smiling with encouragement. It took a while to gather the courage she needed to recall that horrible, faithful night. "Mother had sm-smacked me with sp-spoon and told me I co-couldn't help with dinner because I was use-useless and burned ev-everything. Then F-Father beat me for not helping her. I went through the door, Daddy and Papa, Uncle Fin and Uncle Sve and Big Brother Ice found me. Then they took me home," she informed, shuffling in her seat and keeping her gaze to the ground.

"And the Nordic nations didn't mess with your head?"

"No! Papa would never. He's the best nation and papa anyone could have! Daddy and Uncles and Big Brother too! No head messing!" she cried, tears springing to her eyes as she clung to her blanket. She hated when someone insulted or hurt her family members, especially with all they had done for her.

"As you can see, sir, she has been given the wrong state of mind and is confused," Raske calmly said, turning to the judge.

Mikaelsen shot up in his seat, brows furrowed, finger pointing to the offending attorney. "Objection, sir! Twisting the witness's words!"

"Accepted. Mr. Raske, I will ask you not to misinterpret or twist a witness's statement, especially a child's," Westrup growled. "If anything, I'd be concerned with your clients' statements."

Raske sneered. "One question. How did your mother and father treat you, Miss Amalia?"

The girl shivered and shrunk in herself. She didn't want to answer the revolting question. She didn't want to be called a liar again. She wanted her papa and daddy. She wanted to go home and snuggle big brother. She just wanted her family.

"H-H-Horribly, mis'er. They-They hurt me even if I did something right!" Amalia wiped away her tears, all the while furiously shouting the unheard words she had been repeating in her head for so long. "They hurt an-and scream and yell!"

"Sir," Mathias stood, glancing between Westrup and sobbing Amalia.

"Please, Den," the judge nodded, allowing the Danish man to quickly rush up to his daughter and hug her, whispering soft words in her ears.

"You have to be brave, _lille en_. You can do it. Just a few more questions from Mr. Mikaelsen, okay?" Mathias said, soothing her hair. She hiccuped and clutched at his suit.

"I want to go home, Papa," Amalia sniffled, burying her face in her blanket.

"Just a little longer. Promise. You are so brave and amazing. I promise I'll get you something sweet afterwards," he said, then pulled away and gave her a big, reassuring grin. She giggled and allowed him to step down and go back to his seat.

The prosecution had turned back and sat in his seat. "Cross-examine, Mr. Mikaelsen?"

The defense nodded and moved to stand in front of the Greenlandic girl. He smiled. "Hello, Miss Amalia. We came here to figure out what your story is. So, my first question is do you know where you come from?"

She nodded and lifted her engraved necklace from under her collar. "Mother and Father found this when they found me."

"And where did they find you?"

"They told me in the snow in a field in Greenland. They said they saved from the cold," Amalia replied, idly messing with the silver locket.

"And what does your necklace say?"

"Greenland and my name. Like Papa's bracelet says Denmark and Daddy's ring says Norway," she explained. Several gasps and mumbles sounded through the crowd, which had grown since the case started.

Mikaelsen turned to Westrup. "As you can see, sir and people of the jury, like the other nations, Amalia has an item of representation that states she is a nation personified. Amalia, how many languages do you know?"

"Three, but Daddy's teaching me Norwegian and then I'm going to learn Icelandic from big brother!" she replied excitedly.

"These three languages, how did you know them?"

"I already knew Danish and Old Greenlandic, and learn English at home."

"Does either your mother and father know Old Greenlandic? Did they ever speak Danish?" Mikaelsen questioned.

She shook her curly brown head. "No. Mother and Father only spoke English."

Mikaelsen nodded and turned to the audience. "To summarize, Miss Amalia knows three languages, one of which is dead and another no one ever spoke in front of her. English should be the only language she knows, but instead she knows three." The crowd murmured, before the attorney turned back to his client. "Miss Amalia, what's your first memory?"

"Objection, how is this related to the case?" Raske abrupted from his seat.

"To provide information whether or not she is a country. Deserving a better family than the one you're defending" Westrup gruffed, then nodded for Mikaelsen to continue.

"Amalia wouldn't need to prove her own existence, if her so-called parents didn't want her back only to hurt her again," Lukas growled, glaring at the offending couple adjacent to them.

The crowd grew quiet as Amalia shifted in her seat, squeezing her eyes shut and looking through her memories. She had to push away the ones before she was found by the Nordics, pass the ones of her abusers, and to the first of her days.

"It was cold," she recalled, "And there were men shouting. It was snowing badly and their torches were gone. They wanted shelter. I was hiding in a cave. A bear took me to her home and kept me warm. She was lonely. I remembered she scared the men off because they got too close."

Amalia's eyes opened and she giggled. "She was nice and warm. I miss her a lot too."

"Do you remember how old you were?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I remember waking up one day in her fur. The men had funny clothes. Like the ones Papa tells in his stories."

"Viking clothes?" She nodded. "That was an oddly long time ago. Roughly 1,500 years," Mikaelsen chuckled.

"I don't remember much after that. I don't remember when they found me," Amalia said.

"What is your first memory of being in the Olsen house?" He questioned, standing beside the podium and leaning casually against it.

"Mother greeting me with a really high voice and a big smile. She was happy, for a long time too, which made me happy, but then Father and Mother got really sad and started hitting me. I-I don't know why they hurt me, Mis'er Mikaelsen," the little girl answered, shuffling in her seat as she tried not to look at the couple to her right. Their glares were heated, piercing the side of her head.

"So they started hitting you out of the blue one day? No explanations? They weren't fired from their jobs? A family member didn't die?"

Amalia shook her head. "I wasn't told anything, mis'er Mikaelsen," she quietly said.

The defendant turned to the nation parents of the girl. "If it isn't too much, could we see her scars? Evidence that she had been, in fact, abused?" he inquired respectfully, not demanding for the proof.

The Norwegian and Dane shared a glance, before the former stood and rounded the desk, approaching Amalia. He knelt down to her ear and whispered, to which she tensed but nodded at the request. Lukas took her hand and guided her down the podium so the injuries could be seen by all.

Lukas bent on one knee again and unzipped her dress, pulling the fabric down to her waist to hide her decency down below, even as a four year old. Amalia's head was tilted down so she was gazing darkly at the floor. Her fingers gripped between Lukas's shirt.

Mikaelsen lowered next to Lukas, whose eyes wouldn't move away from the damaged skin. The lawyer stared at the faded marks, before turning his attention to the jury. Their own eyes were horrifyingly wide, some women had hands over their mouths and some men had to look away. It was sickening for a human to do that to a child so young. She would have some of those well into her two hundreds.

"I don't like them," the victim murmured. "They hurt sometimes still. And I have bad dreams, too. Daddy and Papa are the only ones who make me feel better when I cry 'cause they hurt."

The jury seemed to break, eyes softening at the little girl's words. She was strong, she wouldn't be standing there if she wasn't. To show battlescars like hers, it took so much courage. Rape, mugged, and other abused victims would never have stood there and pulled their shirt up to show what they hid underneath. Amalia was doing it for herself, was doing it for her new family.

Mr Mikaelsen nodded with a soft smile. "Thank you for your help, Miss Amalia," he said, then nodded to the judge to show he was done.

Westrup turned to the girl and her daddy. "You may go back to your seat, young one," he announced.

" _Tak_ , Mis'er Westrup," Amalia whispered and walked back to sit on her papa's lap. He welcomed her with a gentle kiss to the forehead and many sweet, comforting words in her ears, hands clasped tightly together. Lukas plopped down beside them, sitting closer than he had before.

"Closing statements, please," the judge requested, leaning back in his seat, position speaking his boredom.

Raske stood, composing himself as he started his closing statement. He spoke highly of the couple, their witnesses words, and how Amalia was too young to understand what was going on. He spoke lowly of the four year old, who actually had been living for over a hundred years in the barren cold, then suffered nearly two years beaten and broken by two selfish, inconsiderate, lowly humans.

Once he was done, Mikaelsen took his turn, but not before shooting a glare at Raske. The defendant talked about the upsides to Amalia being with the Nordic nations, thinking about the actual reason they were in court in the first place. They were there to fight for custody of Amalia, not convince the judge how wonderful people the Olsen couple were, but if they were competent enough to take care of her properly. Mikaelsen mentioned how a little nation, such as Peter for example, should be raised by other elder nations, along with the evidence present from Amalia's torso and arms. It was an obvious sign of abuse, and bullying could not be used as an excuse because Amalia never went to school, or even left that house.

"This case was over when it began," Westrup grumbled irritated as soon as Mikaelsen was sitting. "Why that bastard even thought it should be one, I will never know. The final decision is obviously that Amalia, otherwise known as Greenland, is in the custody of the Nordics, where she belongs. Papers will be signed for custody as she still remains looking underage and official documentation of being a nation will be created soon."

The room cheered, the jury excused themselves and Westrup left for a cup of coffee.

Amalia looked up to her parents. "Stay with Papa and Daddy?"

Mathias grinned. "Of course! We would never let you go!" He plucked her up and tossed her gently in the air, earning a large squeal like laugh. When he put her down, she ran straight for Emil and attacked his leg in a hug.

"We did it, Big Brother!" she exclaimed. "We can watch TV together now!"

Emil chuckled and took her hands as she stood on his feet. They turned in a small circle. "Yes, we can find out what happens. I'm sure Mr. Puffin will also be happy you get to stay."

Amalia's big, icy eyes lighted up. "You think?"

"I'm sure. He'd miss his cuddle buddy."

"This can't be happening!" a voice angrily screeched from the other side of the room.

The Icelandic boy's first instinct was to hold his little sister and protect her, as the others stood on high alert. Tino pushed Peter behind him and Berwald. The culprit of the loud scream was Jacob Olsen, whose face was as red as a tomato and his head was about to blow up. From next to him, Ingrid stayed far away with a look of disinterest of her face, like the occurance happened often. Their lawyer had disappeared somewhere.

"I was supposed to have that brat in my hands again!" Jacob screamed, stomping his foot.

"Well, reality check, sir. Amalia is no brat and she will never be in your hands again, so as long as our countries live," Tino stated with a hidden threat behind his words. 'Don't touch my niece, you deadbeat dad'.

Jacob snarled and turned to the nation family. "You're the ones that stole her from me! She was supposed to be mine! I was supposed to make her life a living hell!"

The family of the Olsen couple gasped, one of which was Jacob's older brother who stepped forward with an angered, disappointed look. "First you tell us you had a daughter four years late, then you say she was kidnapped, now you're telling us you only wanted to get her back because you liked torturing her?"

Jacob's eyes widened in realization as his wife rolled her eyes unimpressed by his childish behaviors. Though she was making it seem like she was innocent, her heart was thumping loud with anxiety. Jacob wasn't the only one guilty, and was waiting for her punishment to be served.

"My granddaughter," an elderly woman stated, standing next to the man. "You kept her a secret and hurt her like a bag of sand. She's a sweet, little girl. How could you do something like that, Jacob? You're father would have your head for your disgraceful actions."

"We're not ashamed of our actions. Many times we nearly lost the house because of the extra mouth to feed. Ingrid lost her job many times having to care for that brat. We nearly lost everything!" Jacob spat.

"The least you could have done was give her to one of us, instead of making such a small child suffer, _røvhul_ ," the brother said, frowning as he turned away and began walking out of the room with his own wife. They stopped when they came to Amalia and Emil. He looked for permission from the older nation, before pressing a gentle kiss to her head. " _Vi beklager, barn."_

Amalia nodded. " _Tak."_

The uncle smiled, then nodded to the Nordics and left the room with his wife. The mother of the two sons stepped closer to Jacob. "You are a disgrace, officially disowned. I hope you and her rot in hell for the things you did to that girl," she sneered, then hobbled away with her cane and paused to look at the small Greenlandic girl. Without hesitation, she took those fragile hands in her worn ones and smiled. "You are a very beautiful little one. I am deeply sorry I couldn't help my adopted granddaughter in any way. Had I known… You are very lucky to have such a strong family standing behind you. Don't let them go, _søde barn_." The woman kissed her cheek, then waved goodbye, walking away.

Amalia giggled. "Grandma's nice."

Tino, Mathias and Peter smiled fondly at the girl, the others having soft eyes upon her sleepy form. They knew that wasn't the last time they'd see the elder woman.

The seven turned at the sound of fussing and metal clinking on metal. The police were trying to arrest Ingrid and Jacob Olsen, stating that they were charged with child abuse and withholding information in court, as well as lying. They were putting up a fight, but no one else paid them mind or looked concern because they got what they deserved.

"We go home now," the littlest nation stated with a small nod, curling a fist around her blanket.

"Officially called home," Tino stated, pecking the girl's forehead and all walked out of the courtroom, ready for another day tomorrow as a whole family.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Danish_

 _røvhul -_ asshole

 _Vi beklager, barn -_ We're sorry, child

 _søde barn -_ sweet child

* * *

 **Okay, I feel like shit, cause I am**

 **BUT I am sorry for the late update. I have 10 chapters for this story finished, in the revising section, but I just can't seem to update anything!**

 **As for my other story some of you know about, I am struggling with that one. I lost some motivation, but I'm gaining it back, but a update might be awhile.**

 **I have some courses in the fall that will murder me so I gotta start early.**

 **Thanks for understanding because everyone has a life relatable.**

 **Black out!**


	8. December 16 Morning

**Little Nordic**

 _December 16_

* * *

A few days later from their court date, Lukas woke Amalia up a bit earlier than what she was used to when they woke her up. It was minutes before sunrise and her daddy had picked her out of her warm covers and took an outfit out of her closet. Half asleep, she stood on her feet and was wobbling as the Norwegian nation changed her into clean clothes.

"Daddy, why we up so early? I'm still tired," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"I know, _liten pingvin,_ but we have to go somewhere today. We have a very important meeting and you need to come with us this time," Lukas explained, carefully brushing her hair and pulling back the longer side with a clip. His lips quirked slightly as she yawned into her sleeve on her palm. "Don't worry, you can sleep on our way there. Let's go pack some of your colouring and puzzles into your backpack."

"Don't forget _tæppe_ and Osvald," she said, going over to her bed and taking the comfort items, a blanket and a stuffed polar bear. It was her country's national animal and she adored the fluffiness of the plushie.

"I would never forget them," Lukas soothed, ruffling her hair. He grabbed her small, red backpack from its hanger on the wall and began packing colouring books, markers, coloured pencils, pencils and a complicated mind puzzle she hadn't been able to get for the last week. Berwald had picked it out and it certainly gave the girl determination to finish it to impress her uncle.

Amalia stopped her daddy before he could zip up the pack and counted off if he got everything, muttering under her breath all the items. She pointed with one hand and in her other was her polar bear, Osvald, wrapped in her blanket. Lukas watched her with amusement, until she nodded and blearily looked up at him, still sleepy.

"Ready, Daddy," she stated and took his hand as they walked out of her bedroom and downstairs. Amalia was surprised to see four different size suitcases by the door and the rest of her family getting their coats on. "Where are we going?"

Tino looked to Berwald cautiously and Mathias shared a look with Lukas. Peter skipped over to the dazed girl with a big grin, too energetic for it being 5:30 in the morning. "We're going to France! It's so nice there, even though he is pretty weird and Big Brother calls him names, it's a nice place!"

Amalia's tiny brows furrowed. "Where's France?"

"To the right of Spain. We're only going there for a few days due to a meeting," Lukas explained, gaining large, glassy eyes to look up at him.

"So we're going on a trip?"

"In a sense," Mathias commented, plucking the girl up and cradling her close, chuckling when she gave a big, silent yawn. "We have to catch a plane, that's why we're up so early. And later, we have to attend the meeting for a short while."

The small girl didn't say anything as she fell asleep on his shoulder.

Amalia had been in and out of sleep between the car ride and security at the airport. She was awake enough to greet the officers that checked their bags, enough to walk through the metal detector, and enough to smile at the stewardesses that welcomed them onto their private plane. All five of the Nordics bosses had agreed to have one single plane to travel on instead of five separate ones. With the additions of two children, it helped to keep together and it was fuel efficient.

Though Amalia was sleeping for most of the start of their trip, Peter was hopping about and cheering all the way through the airport, entertaining all the employees and a few bystanders. Tino was trying to control the micronation to no avail. Mathias found it quite amusing, but he saw the irritated look growing on the Finnish man's face. He intervened and carried the blond boy on his shoulders to keep him away from trouble. Amalia watched from her perch in Berwald's arms, wrapped around her like cuddly bear. Emil was trying to stay away from Lukas, Mathias, Tino and Peter, who he thought were doing embarrassing things, and stayed close to the two quiet ones of the family.

"Big brother not happy?" Amalia drowsily mumbled, head resting on Berwald's shoulder.

Emil grumbled. "More than not happy, Ams."

"Are we almost there?" the girl questioned, eyes drooping slightly.

"Just a little farther," Berwald answered as they entered the food court area, which was slightly more crowded than normal having been a day of business and early in the morn. The seven were pushed and pulled apart and together until they found the door that lead outside to their plane.

"Mr. Finland," a man greeted, wearing a nice blue suit with his hand out for a welcome, on the ground by their plane outside. "Welcome. Your boss has made all the plans for your trip." He noticed the other nations joining the short man. "Good morning, Mr. Denmark, Mr. Sweden, Mr. Norway, Mr. Iceland and Sealand." His brown eyes caught sight of the little girl burying her head tiredly in the Swede's shoulder. "And this must be little Greenland. A pleasure to meet you."

Amalia nodded and shut her eyes, away from the stranger. He looked confused momentarily, before Tino explained she had a difficulty being social, but in a kind way he said it! The man nodded in understanding.

"We have to get to France's place, ASAP, Hops," Mathias urged, patting the man on the back.

The man rolled his eyes with a small smile. "Mr. Denmark, my name is Gregory, not Hops. We've been over this," he corrected. "Now, the pilot wants to leave in fifteen, so Mr. Denmark is right, off you go! Enjoy the trip!"

Gregory watched as they entered the plane and waved one last time when Peter glanced back and waved. Once the door was shut behind him, Peter rushed about the plane. He was always excited to be included in going to the meetings because Berwald and Tino rarely let him go. They usually made him stay at his platform until they came back. Once and awhile there would be call for bad weather and Tino would make Peter go with them.

The micronation plopped down in his seat and chuckled, stuffing his backpack under his seat. He looked up and saw Berwald set his sleeping cousin on a small cot pulled out for her. It had safety rails and was sat between two seats to keep her safely secured. Said baby nation was wrapped up in her blanket and her polar bear was tucked in her arms. Tino had taken off her winter coat and hat, then regretted not letting her stay in her pajamas and change into her nice outfit when they arrived in France.

"It'll be alright. She's tired, she'll sleep in anything," Lukas reassured, taking a book from his messenger bag and laying across a seat that held the cot still.

Mathias pouted. He wanted to cuddle the Norwegian. He was still tired too and wanted to go back to sleep holding the shorter man close. Oh well, Lukas was stubborn like that. Instead he took the couch and drifted as he watched Peter intensely colour a piece of paper.

Berwald had taken another seat in front of Peter and next to Tino. Tino was scrolling on his laptop boredly and Berwald was idly watching outside or turned his attention to Peter curiously.

The trip remained the same, except when Amalia woke back up an hour later and crawled into Lukas lap. His book forgotten back in his bag, the family had started to converse quietly, until the sleeping Danish man opened his eyes and was attacked by a micronation.

They landed in Paris an hour later and entered a SUV that escorted them to their hotel. Amalia couldn't help, but press her face against the window and stare in wonder at all the things that passed by. The people, the places, the new culture! It amazed her and she couldn't wait to see it all. Everything was new to her and the way her eyes light up amused her surrogate parents. Peter was yapping about anything he could think about, jumping in his seat with too much energy. The complete opposite of Amalia.

" _Monsieurs_ , we've arrived," the driver announced, pulling into the hotel overhang entrance. With the hotel close to the city, many people walked in and out of the building, chatting with friends or family. Amalia caught some of the weird tongue they spoke in the country and some of other languages she had never heard of. Her cerulean eyes eagerly looked around at the decors, the lights and the people inside in the lobby.

" _Bonjour, monsieurs_ and _mademoiselle_!" the concierge smiled. "Welcome to Paris. We are honoured to be able to host all of you. May I ask why you've come to the city of lights?"

Tino grinned back. "A very long meeting amongst others," he said secretly. "It's always nice to come to France. Are there still more to arrive?"

The concierge seemed to understand the code words, giving a thin-lipped smile and shaking his blond head. "Afraid everyone arrived last night, _monsieur_. The meeting is being held in an hour down in the meeting room down the hall," he informed, pointing down the specific corridor.

"Thank you!" the Finnish man exclaimed.

"Please sign in first and take your badge for identification. Just to be safe," the concierge requested, gesturing to the five cards sitting on the counter. They each had clips so they could be attached to their shirts.

The Nordics showed their nation card and took their badge. Peter was a bit upset not getting one, but the man gave him a sticker that said 'Hello! My name is _' and allowed Peter to write Sealand, much to the boy's excitement.

The concierge saw the little girl in Lukas's arms looking curiosity about the lobby. He gained her attention, asking, "Hello, _petit_ , would you like a tag too?"

Amalia bit her lip and analysed the man for a second, before shaking her head and clinging to her daddy. The concierge chuckled and gave them their room keys. Emil would bunk with Peter, Berwald and Tino in another room, and Lukas and Mathias with Amalia. There were two beds in each room, a small kitchen, a bathroom and a sitting area. It was a nice room to stay in for nearly a week, and gave Amalia a good image of the wonderful city and what it had to offer.

Once they reached their room, Amalia was set down and allowed to explore the room as Mathias and Lukas discussed and unpacked their clothes. The little nation looked with awe at all the things they held in one little room. Her mouth was gaped open and her eyes were wide as she slowly walked around, curiously peeking around corners and testing furniture.

" _Hej_ , Ams!"

The little girl turned and found the Danish man standing at the door with her backpack on his shoulder and Lukas fumbling with his phone by his side. "Come on. It's time to introduce you to everyone," Mathias smiled, holding out his hand to her.

"E-Everyone?" she stumbled, taking the large appendage in her own and they walked out to the hallway.

"Remember when you met Poland, Hong Kong, New Zealand and Australia?" Lukas asked, stuffing his phone angrily in his pocket.

Her curly head nodded. "Big Brother likes Hong Kong, and Mr. Zealand and Mr. Aussie are friends," Amalia recalled, looking down on the ground and narrowly avoiding certain spots in the carpet.

Mathias and Lukas shared a look, before they looked concerned and confused down at her. "H-How did you know about Ice?" the latter asked, more so on the threatening big brother side.

Amalia furrowed her brows with a guilty look, regretting she said anything about Emil and his personal life. "N-Nothing. It's just a guess!" she recovered, shaking her head.

"Anyways," Mathias said, changing the topic so he wouldn't push her or embarrass her as Lukas pressed the button to the elevator. "There are more countries than just the few of us. That is why we're in France. Every month we have a meeting with all the nations to discuss world problems. We brought you this month because you are officially a country and we'd be hated if we hid you from everyone else," he explained.

"Problems? Like what?" Amalia questioned, stepping onto the lift that held three other people. An older woman, a teen boy, and a businessman.

"Uh, well, finances, treaties, politics," Mathias said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. Amalia jumped slightly and pulled her backpack down form his shoulder, shoving the straps onto her own.

"P-Pool-Politics?" the little nation stammered, scrunching her nose as she stood in front of the two Viking nations. Her blanket was in her fist and her polar bear was wrapped in it like a baby. "F-Fia-Fishes?"

All the others laughed at her attempt to say the complicated words. Lukas shook his head. "Finances. You won't have to worry about that until you are much older. Den will take care of that for you," he answered.

" _Hej!_ " cried the elder nation. Amalia giggled and took hold of Lukas's pants, playfully hiding from her papa.

The elevator binged and all stepped off onto the lobby floor. The older woman patted Mathias shoulder and whispered into his ear, making his light blue eyes widen and a blush appear hot on his cheeks. She laughed and walked away out of the hotel. Lukas raised a confused eyebrow at him, curious.

"What did she tell you, Den?" he questioned.

Mathias gulped and shook his head, pushing down his blush. "Sh-She said what a lovely couple we made with our daughter."

Seconds later, Mathias received a reaction he hadn't expected. Lukas smiled and took Amalia's hand, then turned back to the Dane and kissed his cheek. "Still flustered as ever? Get over yourself, stupid Dane," with that he turned and walked in the direction of the meeting room. He left Mathias confused, but he smiled and quickly followed.

As they neared the doors, Amalia's steps started to falter. She could feel her heart racing hard against her chest, the blood pounding in her ears and she felt light-headed. Her vision got blurry as her breathing increased and she couldn't hear her family asking her what was wrong. Emil, Tino, Berwald and Peter had caught up to them and tried to help get the girl out of her trance.

Amalia could only see the family room or the kitchen filled with people from _his_ work, or his friends who came over and got drunk with him. The things they did, the things they said, and the looks that were given. She felt the fear from all the smashed bottles, the loud shouts and the laughing voices.l

Suddenly, she felt warm lips against her forehead and soft arms wrapped around her body. Her eyes looked up fearfully and found Mathias holding her close to his chest, whispering soft words in her ears. She hiccuped as tears slowly streamed down her face and her polar bear was clutched to her chest.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Papa," she sniffled, pulling back and rubbing her eyes. Her breathing was slightly labored as she tried to control it, focusing on relaxing.

"It's alright," Mathias smiled gently, wiping away her tears. "You can be scared, Amma. It's okay. We were all scared for our first meeting and we were much older than you." She chuckled at the thought of her confident family being afraid as grown men. "You can do this though. We are right here for you, okay?"

The Greenlandic girl nodded and quickly asked to be set down. The Dane did, letting the girl grab onto her cousin's hand, silently asking for support. Peter squeezed her hand. Amalia held tightly onto Peter's hand as they were guided into the meeting room. The micronation was slow and gentle with his little cousin as many faces turned towards them when they entered. The Greenlandic child cowered behind Peter.

" _Bonjour_ , _mes amies_ ~" a shoulder-length blond haired man greeted, holding his arms out. His blue eyes twinkled with excitement. "Long time, no see, Nordics. Haven't heard from you five for weeks."

"Hello, France," Mathias replied. "We've been a bit occupied with a little someone."

Francis raised a brow. "Oh~ Might I ask who?"

As though on cue, suddenly Peter was dashing off and shouting excitedly, leaving Amalia alone to hide behind Berwald's long leg. She gripped fearfully tight and dug her face into the fabric.

The Nordics and Francis took notice and Tino vowed to punish Peter for doing what he did. Francis smiled gently and knelt down to the frightened girl's height.

" _Bonjour_ , _petite fleur,_ what is your name?" he asked softly, coaxing her from her hidden posture.

Winter eyes looked at him, scanning him for anything suspicious. He was generous and experienced with children by the state of his patience and kindness. He was a tall man with a formal stance that spoke confidence, a scruff at the chin and conditioned, wavy hair.

"A-Amalia, mis'er," the Greenlandic girl spoke, moving her mouth away from the Swede so her reply wasn't muffled.

"Ah~ What a beautiful name." The Frenchman looked up at the five Scandinavian countries. "Why do you have the small child with you? You know the consequences."

"She's actually one of us, France," Tino answered. "If you'd allow, we'd prefer to explain only once to the whole world. It's a… long story."

Francis nodded. "Of course. Understandable, but I'm sure some of the others would like to meet her beforehand."

"They'll have to wait," Lukas snapped, taking the little one protectively in his arms. It amused them how defensive he got immediately. When Emil was little, Lukas would show off that the white haired child was his little brother. He had been proud, but now, he was hiding the little one and didn't give any information.

Mathias smiled. "Many thanks, Fran."

"Of course, _men amies_. Come, the meeting will start soon," Francis said, grinning as he guided them to their seats.

As soon as everyone was seated, the room was quiet as they stared at the fearful small child cowering into Mathias's chest. Lukas was to his right, glaring at everyone angrily for scaring his daughter. Tino was brooding about Peter leaving Amalia when she needed him the most and the Finnish man didn't know where he went off to. Berwald was trying to calm him down, but Tino was like a mother when her child disobeyed. Peter was practically his son, both of theirs.

The looks turned to questions, murmurs amongst each other, they leaned over to their neighbor and spoke in their ear. There were nods of agreement and replies, which made Amalia fear the worse. First impressions were hard to make, especially when you didn't like new people and had a bad past.

"Who is she?"

"Why do you have a human?"

"Does she know what we do?"

"Why is she so small?"

Arthur had just had enough, standing and doing what the blond German usually did; shout for attention. "Shut up, you twats! Maybe if you stop questioning them, we'd be able to get some answers!"

Everyone stopped talking, a few surprised that it was the British man that gained the attention of the entire world. He huffed, readjusting his tie. "Now, if all you wankers would allow them some explanations, that would be _lovely_ ," he stressed then calmly sat in his seat next to another blond with glasses and a milkshake.

The five Nordics shared looks, silently discussing who would take the job of an explanation. The Norwegian rolled his eyes, pushing back his seat as he stood. He gained the attention of all present in the room. His eyes glanced over them.

"This is Amalia. We found her about a month ago at night, in the snow, all alone. We discovered she had abusive parents. Taking her in, we did not learn until later than Amalia is in fact not human. She is the personification of the country Greenland. How long she has been alive is unknown, but she has the mind and body of a four year old girl who has gone through so much more than you would expect. We would greatly appreciate if no one did anything hasty or rude in her presence," he explained.

The nations of the world blinked, processing the information. Well all were trying to understand except the Nordics, Feliks, Leon, Ralph, James, Gilbert, and Antonio. All of which had already been told the story and met the little girl new to the world.

"How come Denmark didn't find her before, eh?" a soft voice asked from next to the blond with a milkshake.

"When Den found the island, he hadn't discovered Greenland as a person. She was very evasive apparently," Emil answered. "Though, she doesn't remember much before her kidnappers."

"It's a human response too. To protect the precious memories in one's subconscious," the british man commented.

"That doesn't explain why she's so small if the country is so big and old," a blond german man piped up.

A man with dark haired pulled back in a ponytail wearing a green military uniform with sleeves past his fingers stood. "It is not common for it to happen," he started out, "But when a nation is small and a human or other nation hurts them, such as abuse, their bodies will not change due to the oppression. They will stay the same until the threat is completely gone, they will begin to age like a normal human, until their nation's prime age."

"How do you know this, China-dude?" the milkshake man asked.

Yao looked down sadly. "It's happened before and I was a witness to it. It was not a happy sight, America," he said.

"So the little sunflower is small because some humans hurt her?" a man with a Russian accent and a scarf asked, a dark aura around his body. It didn't scare Amalia, but somewhat comforted her, relaxing her tense posture.

"Yes, if what China is saying is true," the British man answered, his eyes low with sadness. He had seen children before with such parents or were homeless with nothing. He had wanted to save them, but he couldn't, due to his status as a nation.

"So what are you going to do with the kid?" the milkshake man questioned, his face full of seriousness.

"We'll raise her!" Mathias exclaimed proudly, bouncing his leg. "She's part of our family. We'd do anything for her."

"When will you tell her boss? When will you get all the official information together?" the British man asked, crossing his legs with his back straight against his chair.

"Soon. When she's better, we'll introduce her boss and get her all the official information," Lukas answered.

Amalia, who had been awfully quiet during the questions, started to squirm and pushed herself to stand on the carpet. She shuffled her backpack off and plopped down on the ground with her bear and blanket.

"Where did she go?" the blond German asked.

"On the ground. She started drawing," Mathias chuckled, looking down at those light eyes.

"Well, we should probably start this meeting, now that things have been straightened," the Frenchman, Francis, continued, standing and starting the first topic they need to discuss.

The littlest nation tuned their talk out, taking out her markers and papers, starting her drawings. She quietly started drawing one of the nations she remembered seeing. She thought he was kind with soft purple eyes and a quiet voice. Her polar bear was tucked under her arm with her blanket under her body. She wasn't paying attention, but Lukas kept stealing glances down at her to make sure she was safe.

When she was finished, Amalia stood and pulled at the Norwegian's pants for his attention. He leaned down, allowing her to whisper in his ear. He nodded at her request. She took her bear, the paper, and blanket and ducked under the table, walking across where she remember the man she drew sat.

Her icy eyes peeked up and she found the man with the milkshake and the purple eyed man. Trying not to scare him, Amalia tugged on his leg.

The purple eyed man looked down curiously and found the new nation staring up at him. Shyly, she looked away and held up the drawing she made for him. A small smile graced his lips as he bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, little maple," he whispered. His eyes danced to the polar bear in her arms. "I love your little bear."

She blushed and moved to stand next to him, instead of hidden by the shadows of the table. " _Tak._ His name is Osvald," she whispered.

He giggled. "I have a polar bear too. His name is Kumajirou."

Said polar bear popped up from behind his chair and sat down in front of Amalia. Her lips were gaped as he looked up and asked, "Who are you?"

She chuckled and put her finger to her lips, hushing him. "I'm Amalia, or Greenland."

Kumajirou looked up to his owner and pointed. "That's Matthew or Canada."

The girl nodded. "That's a nice name. Your name is nice too!"

"Oh, hey, little dudette," the man next to Matthew greeted with a wide grin. "What you doing over here?"

Shyness seized the girl again and she shuffled her feet, eyes to the ground. "I-I made something for Mr. Canada," Amalia muttered.

The wheat blond haired man leaned and looked over his twin's shoulder. "Sick pic, little dudette," he said in awe, examining the drawing.

"Thank you, Mr…"

"America or Alfred."

Amalia's eyes lit with recognition. "You're Sea's big brother!"

Alfred's grin widened. "Yea. How'd you know?"

"Sea won't stop talking about how awesome you are or whatever word he uses, whenever he comes home from seeing you," she answered.

The brothers chuckled together. "Well, Al, seems you're popular among the little ones."

"I guess so," Alfred shrugged. "Does Nor know you're over here?"

Her curly, brunette head bobbed up and down. " _Ja!_ Daddy get worried if I don't tell him where I go," she replied, picking at her polar bear's fur.

The brothers shared a look, before turning back to Amalia. "You should probably go back before he starts a search party, little maple," Matthew warned.

She nodded again and waved goodbye, before ducking back under and walking to where she could see Mathias's black and red coat. She sat back at her drawing supplies and started doodling again. She was content at her spot on the ground with her toys, a few snacks and her sippy cup. Her ears picked up some of the discussion, but she didn't understand it so she didn't care.

" _Baby bjørn."_

Amalia turned her eyes up and found Mathias leaning down towards her.

" _Er du okay?"_ he questioned.

She smiled and those curly locks bounced. " _Jeg har det fint,_ Papa," her voice muttered back. Her stomach suddenly grumbled loudly, causing her hands to fly up to her face to hide her blush. Mathias chuckled and shared a look with Lukas.

"She's hungry," he said in Danish.

"Well no wonder. She didn't have breakfast," Lukas answered in Norwegian.

"The meeting still has another two hours."

"And we don't know where Sea went."

"She has some snack."

"But that's not going to fill her."

Amalia watched them go back and forth, able to keep up with only half the conversation since she only knew very little Norwegian. They talked like they were a newly married couple with their first kid. As they continued, she popped a few of her snacks in her mouth and cuddled Osvald.

"Norway, Denmark."

The two blonds looked up and found the blond German glaring at them. "Is something wrong?"

Mathias chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "No. All is good!"

Amalia stood and put her hands on the edge of the table, eyes barely peeking over the table. She stared at the tall blond curiously. His brows were furrowed and his arms were crossed.

Lukas rolled his eyes, laying his hand on her head. "We didn't eat breakfast," he said.

"Ah~ _Petit_ is hungry, _non?"_ Francis questioned.

" _Ja_ , but the meeting is still going on. We didn't want to interrupt the meeting, but I guess that's out the window," Mathias replied.

"Oh, don't worry!" a girl, around her late teens with dark hair and tanned skin, came up to the trio. She was wearing a blue dress with a white jacket, which seemed unfitting for the weather. "I'll get her fed, Nor and Den."

"Really, Seychelles, you don't need to. She's patient and can wait," Mathias answered.

Amalia's stomach made a noise again, making her duck back under the table with embarrassment. The nations chuckled with amusement as she blushed darkly.

"Oh no. I don't think so. Jeez, what's with men? The girl's hungry. Let me get her something to eat. Get her around some girls for once," Seychelles said, smiling. She knelt down and held a hand out to the hiding little nation. "Hello, there. I'm Seychelles. Do you want to have a meal with me?"

Amalia observed her for a moment, eyes scanning the summer looking nation, before she outstretched her hand and intertwined them together. Seychelles smiled, guiding the girl over to the door with her backpack on her shoulders

"You may continue your meeting now!" she announced, shutting the door behind them.

Amalia looked up to the woman leading her to a restaurant in the hotel. It was expensive, but with her relations with France, Seychelles got a good deal for all the meals.

The older female took Amalia to a high top table and lifted the short girl onto her seat. She whispered a shy 'Tak' and shuffled nervously in her chair. The Greenlandic girl was naturally afraid of social situations and severely shy, but she knew she could trust Seychelles because she was a nation too. A young one by her looks and the way she acted.

Seychelles smiled and hopped onto her seat. "Now, listen, little one. You can get anything you want. I have a few connections here so don't worry about anything. You just order what your little stomach desires," she exaggerated, throwing her hands up dramatically.

Amalia giggled. "Okay…" Her eyes glanced at the menu, but she realized it was all in French. Her eyes widened, before she handed her menu to the girl across from her. Seychelles looked confused, but Amalia explained that she couldn't read the language.

"Oh! How sorry of me. I'm so used to French, it's like reading English!" she chuckled. "Do not fret. I'll get you the most amazing meal!"

The little nation nodded excitedly, hugging her polar bear plushie. " _Tak_ , Miss Seychelles."

She smiled widely. "Your welcome! But please, call me Seychelles. The whole Miss thing is too formal."

Amalia shrugged. "Daddy says it's supposed to be formal and polite. It makes your name even prettier too!"

Seychelles giggled, leaning her head against her hand with her elbow on the table. "Your daddy is a good man, and _merci_ , but we can be casual with each other, my little girl friend."

"Okay… then my name is Amalia, but you can call me whatever. Sea calls me Ams and Papa calls me Amma, but I don't care," the small girl explained. "And this is Osvald!" Her little hands held up her polar bear.

"A pleasure to meet both of you," Seychelles said, nodding with a laugh.

Their waiter came up and began speaking French. Amalia didn't want to, but she ignored him since she couldn't understand him and began fumbling with Osvald. Seychelles glanced at her, before replying back quickly and ordering their meal. He left with a nod, taking the menu. The elder nation looked at the toddler in front of her.

"Do you like the Nordics?"

Amalia turned her head up. Her curls bobbing as she nodded. "Daddy and Papa treat me better than my mother and father did. They play with me and sometimes I help Papa cook. Uncle Fin and Daddy are really protective, that's what big brother Ice says. Oh! And Uncle Sve is really cuddly like a big bear," she informed, moving her hands enthusiastically around.

Seychelles eyes enlarged. "The big, quiet viking likes to cuddle? No way!"

Amalia nodded furiously. " _Ja!_ He likes watching crimanimal shows too!"

The summer nation laughed. "You mean criminal?"

"Oh… uh, yea!"

"So can I ask how they found such a cutie? They're not selling adorable girls on the black market, are they?" she teased, earning a laugh from Amalia.

"No, silly! But I'll tell you 'cause you're nice. Papa and Daddy found me after I ran from my mother and father. They were very hurtful and not nice, but Uncle Fin told me that not everyone is like that. So Daddy and Papa took me home and takes care of me and told me I'm a nation and now, I meet everyone else," she explained, her own English a bit uneducated, but Seychelles predicted it was from just that. A lack of education due to her abusive parents.

Her eyebrows caved together as she frowned. "Oh, I'm so sorry, little butterfly. Someone should never go through something like that."

"I'm okay. I have a nice family now. They love me and I love them," Amalia smiled big, easing the sad tension around the table.

The waiter came up and put their drinks down, before their plates. Seychelles smiled and nodded their thanks as Amalia looked at her meal. She picked up her fork and, with furrowed, concentrated brows, poked her food. Seychelles had to keep from bursting out with laughter. The girl was adorable.

"Need help?"

Those winter eyes snapped up, swimming with confusion. She sat back and nodded. Seychelles took the plate and cut it up into tiny pieces. "It's just simple cooked chicken with a baguette. I wasn't quite sure what you ate, so I went with something simple," she answered, setting the plate back.

"Daddy and Ice usually request meals with fish, but Papa wants something with pork," Amalia said, taking her overly large fork in small hands and stabbing her bites. "I usually eat whatever Uncle Fin or Papa make."

"You seem like an easy child," Seychelles commented, taking a bite of her food.

Amalia sat up and looked over everything to see what her temporary caretaker got for food. "What's that?"

"It's called escargot," Seychelles explained. "It's actually snails."

The four year old's face twisted with disgust, her tongue sticking out at the thought of eating it. "Ew. I thought eating fish was bad."

"Hey!" Seychelles chuckled. "It's a delicacy here!"

Amalia scrunched her nose. "It's gross."

* * *

"Alright, I believe that's it for today. Tomorrow, we'll discuss Korea and Global Climate Change," Ludwig announced, allowing everyone to stand and stretch their cramped muscles.

"Dinner reservations have been made at the _Chez L'Ami Jean_ for 8:30 for everyone. My treat," Francis said, winking as his per usual charm.

There were murmurs of thank yous in several different languages as nations put papers in their bags and began to casually talk again. Lukas and Mathias were in a conversation with Matthew and Alfred, but it was more like Mathias, since Lukas couldn't help but search for their daughter.

"Hey, Nor-dude. Don't worry. Seychelles is trustworthy. They probably got caught up shopping or something," Alfred reassured the worried Norwegian.

"He'd be freaking out even if Fin took her out for an hour," Mathias chuckled, laying his hands on the tense nation's shoulders. He leaned close to his ear, whispering, "Relax, Norge. She's okay."

Lukas shivered him off, gaining chuckles from the brothers. The door to the meeting room was shoved open and a little shout of 'Papa! Daddy!' reached their ears. Lukas turned just in time to catch Amalia in his arms. She was giggling, face beet red as she hugged him.

"Hello, _liten pingvin_. Did you have a good time with Seychelles?" Lukas inquired.

Amalia nodded. "Seychelles is really nice! She took me to a restaurant and had s-snails! It was really gross too! She also took me to a place _filled_ with toys and bought me one. She had offered to get five, but I only needed one. Like Daddy says, I don't need that much stuff," she ranted on, smiling big as she stared into his slightly emotional, deep blue eyes.

"Good," Lukas said, kissing her forehead. "Did you thank her for doing all that for us?"

Amalia shook her head, then twisted to look at the blushing, summer nation. " _Tak_ , Seychelles, for taking care of me."

Seychelles chuckled. "Any time, little butterfly. If you need someone to watch her anytime, Nordics, I'll be here."

There was a chorus of thank yous from the Nordics as the older girl scuttled off for the night, handing the toy bag to Mathias before she left.

Amalia turned back around, sitting in Lukas's arms comfortably, before she gasped and wiggled from his grip. Once set down, she giggled as she rushed away and collided with two nations that visited often.

"Hey, little _chica!"_ Antonio chuckled, stabling himself as she knocked him slightly off balance.

"Hello, little awesome one," Gilbert greeted, picking her up and lifting her high in his arms. She squealed with laughter, having so much more energy than usual.

" _Hej_ , _Señor_ Antonio and _Herr_ Gilbert," Amalia said. "You haven't visited in so long."

"Aw, were you missing us that much?" the albino teased, ticking her lightly. She responded with giggles, pushing away slightly.

"I like dancing with Papa as _Señor_ Antonio plays his guitar and _Herr_ Gilbert plays his flute. It's so pretty!" she explained.

"Hey, tomato-bastard!"

The three turned and found three men. One had dark brown hair, slightly lighter than Antonios, with a stray curl on the right side of his head and a tan colour uniform. He didn't look so happy with his arms crossed and his mouth curved in a sneer. Another man next to him looked identical, save for lighter brown hair and his curl going the opposite direction with a blue military uniform. He looked calmer and much more happier than his counterpart. The last man had a green military uniform with pushed back blond hair and bright, solid blue eyes, looking sterner and unimpressed.

"Ah, Lovi!" Antonio smiled. "What's the matter now?"

"I'm hungry and tired from this stupid meeting," the man with the tan uniform complained, coming up to the trio. Antonio felt Amalia curl into him fearfully, unsure of the Italian man.

"Calm down, Lovi. You're scaring the little _chica_ ," Antonio requested. "And don't worry, we can get food later and we can take a siesta now."

"Okay then. Let's go," Romano said impatiently, not paying attention to the girl in the Spaniard's arms.

"Oh! Big brother! Shh! You're frightening the little _bambina_ ," the man in the blue uniform said, furiously shaking his head unhappy with his brother.

Romano scoffed as the blond man came up next to Gilbert. "How do you know her if we've only just met her?" the blond asked the albino.

"Because we heard rumors and went to go see if they were true! So they were and we went over a few times because the little awesome girl wanted us to," Gilbert replied, messing with Amalia's curly locks. "She was ill the first time and she wanted to see us when she was much better, so we visited a few times."

"She's such a cute little _bambina_ ," the second Italian man cooed gently. Amalia blushed deeply at the soft compliment, pushing her head into the crook of Antonio's neck bashfully. "Wha-? Did I say something to make her upset?"

"No, Ita-chan. Little _Grönland_ is not used to the nice things people can say. She's had a rough few years," Gilbert explained, laying a hand on the Italian's shoulder comfortingly. "She secretly loves them," he whispered, cackling as her little head poked up and she pushed her bottom lip out in an angry pout.

" _Herr_ Gilbert's being evil again~!" Amalia sang out, in a tattle-like tone. It was a voice she learned from both Peter and Gilbert himself when whining to the mature adults.

Ludwig smacked his brother upside the head, earning a shout of 'Hey!' in reply, but he paid no mind. He turned back to the little girl staring curiously at him. He stared back and, when he raised a simple brow, she perked up, no longer as shy.

"Who are you, mis'er?" she questioned, voice tiny as a mouse.

"I am Ludwig Beilschmidt, or Germany. I'm Gilbert's younger brother," the blond answered. "A pleasure to meet you, _Fräulein_ Amalia."

Amalia bit her lip and shook her head, then giggled. "You can't be younger. You're taller and more adult than _Herr_ Gilbert, _Herr_ Ludwig!"

The younger German chuckled. "Indeed, most think so, but I am younger and he is, sadly, my brother."

"What do you mean by 'sadly', West?!" the Prussian exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips. "Last I recalled, I had to save your sorry a-"

"Language!" Lukas growled from a few feet away in his conversation with England and France.

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Your sorry butt from the bar the other night!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "You got that mixed up. I had to save _you_ the other night from a brawl, bruder."

The elder dismissed the idea. "Nein. You didn't get that beer you wanted and started fighting the bartender. I remember clearly."

"You remember the story reversed, _muchacho_ ," Antonio corrected.

"Whatever!"

"Moving on," Ludwig drawled, seeming unimpressed with his exaggerating sibling, turning back to the girl who was smiling widely at their argument."It was a pleasure to meet you. We'll have to be going, but we will see you at dinner, ja?"

Amalia nodded. " _Ja. Farvel!"_ she called as Ludwig grabbed his brother's ear and dragged him out of the room with force. Feliciano skipped after them.

Lovino rolled his eyes, catching the four year olds attention. She tilted her head and studied the stock still man. He was tense, face twisted with slight anger and impatience. He wanted something, but he would never outwardly say what it was. He wasn't really angry, he was just bad at showing his emotions. She could tell he was actually worried and in love with the man holding her.

"Oh! Amalia, this is Lovino Vargas, or Romano as most call him," Antonio introduced, gesturing to the stubborn.

Amalia turned her blue eyes up to the Spaniard as she whispered close to his ear. "Romano isn't a country. It's a cheese. Uncle Fin told me."

Antonio chuckled. "Well, Romano was only named that because his younger brother took the name of their country. See, the other man is Feliciano, or Italy as he is recognized."

"My grandfather decided that Feliciano would inherit the name after he passed. I was left with the southern part of Italy and dubbed as Romano," Lovino cut in, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at the little girl.

"Then you should be called South, and Feli be called North. If _Herr_ Gilbert is called Prussia and _Herr_ Ludwig called Germany, why do you two share a name instead of two separate ones?" she inquired.

Lovino scrunched up his face, before relaxing his face. He gave her a soft smile, surprised that she asked the same question he did when he felt inferior to his baby brother. She seemed to understand what he felt, even though she was a young nation. No one else knew for they didn't understand what it felt like to be half of a whole country. To share something, but never be recognized.

"You ask a fair question, _bambina_."

"Amalia," Lukas called, pulling the girl's attention away from the Italian. "Let's go."

"Seems like I'll have to tell you another time," Lovino said, ruffling her hair gently. She smiled widely up at him.

Antonio set her down when she wiggled and she bounded over to her parents, throwing a few waves and tossing some kisses at the lovers. It earned her chuckles of amusement as she took her papa's hand. Her eyes trailed up to her daddy. "Will we see them later?" she inquired.

"At dinner, you will, but for now, you have some lessons with Fin to do," Lukas answered, leading them out of the meeting room.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _French_

petit - little one

mes amies - my friends

 _Dannish_

baby bjørn - baby bear

Er du okay - Are you okay?

Jeg har det fint - I'm fine

Farvel - Goodbye


	9. December 16 Evening

**Little Nordic**

 _November 16_

* * *

"But Daddy, I want to play," Amalia said, her voice calm, lips curled in a slight pout of disappointment.

"No, you have lessons. You can play later," Lukas stated sternly as they entered the elevator. No one, but themselves were in the car.

"Oh, come on, Norge," Mathias started, giving that crooked grin. "We've had a long day from travel and the meeting. I'm sure Fin would be okay with no lessons for just today."

Lukas's deep blue eyes glared at the Dane, obviously unhappy he was siding with their daughter. He crossed his arms, half tempted to pull at Mathias's tie.

" _Du trenger å lære eller vil du ikke få noe."_

" _En dag, daddy, jeg ønsker å spille med Sea."_

"We don't know where Sea went, Ams. He disappeared during the meeting and Fin hasn't found him," Mathias replied, switching back to English, squeezing her hand.

Amalia's face fell at the announcement because it meant to her that Peter wanted to hang out with anyone, but her. He wanted to go to places without her. He would've taken her with him wherever he went, if he did. Her grip slackened in Mathias's hand, and he took notice of this quickly. He shared a look with Lukas, who softened slightly.

As the elevator dinged, Lukas took Amalia's other hand and both guided her down the hall to their room. The little girl looked very small compared to her tall and strong fathers. She mumbled under her breath, dragging her feet sadly behind her.

"Two plus two equals four," Amalia whispered, staring at the patterned carpet.

"Three plus three equals…" Mathias trailed, looking down at her.

"Six."

Lukas joined in. "Four plus four equals…"

"Eight."

"Five plus five equals…"

"Ten."

"One plus two equals…"

"Three."

"One plus three equals…"

"Four."

They neared their room and Mathias pulled out the keycard to open the door as Lukas asked Amalia more addition problems. Her voice was more lightened than before, but still held the melancholy she always contained when she was disappointed.

When the door opened, Amalia followed behind her daddy, chanting numbers as he listed the equations. Mathias watched as she made a little dance as she ranted off the digits as answers. Her arms spread and her feet moving in spirals and circles. Her method of learning was through dancing.

As Lukas stopped his equations, Amalia dance began to slow and finally she plopped down on the floor, suddenly sleepy. Mathias walked over and lifted her up from the carpet, cradling her against his shoulder. Lukas tucked her polar bear in her arms and laid her blanket on her shoulders.

Amalia gave a big yawn as she set her head on her papa's shoulder and listened as they conversed quietly.

"I guess she didn't take a nap either."

"If you don't count the one on the plane."

"She was still half asleep technically."

"Well an hour or two won't hurt before dinner."

"A nice bath afterwards too."

"At least you don't break routine in a different country."

Mathias chuckled at the countable complement, laying his daughter on one of the beds. "We can go to Fin and Sve's room until then," he said gently, pulling the covers up the drowsy child fighting the much needed sleep. He kissed her pale forehead and backed out of the room with Lukas.

When they exited the room, they saw Tino scolding a guilty looking Peter with Berwald quietly off to the side.

"You had us scared, Peter!"

The boy winced, knowing he was in great trouble if his mother-figure used his human name. By the mama bear look on Tino's face, it was quite obvious he was protective yet angry.

"I'm sorry, Ma, but Seborga and Wy came today and I got really excited I forgot. They never come!" Peter apologized, shuffling his feet and looking to the carpet.

"Well, you also forgot about your cousin," Berwald added, crossing his arms.

Peter's face cracked as he realized why they were actually mad. He forgot his baby cousin's fear and the amount of anxiety she gained from new surroundings and people. He let her go in favor of seeing his other micronation friends.

"I-I didn't… I-"

" _Hej_ ," Mathias announced their presence, coming up to them. "Sea, we get you didn't mean it, but your actions still have consequences. Ams was left alone and in her mind, she may have thought you abandoned her."

Peter's sea blue eyes filled with tears of regret. "I-I'm sorry," he sniffed.

Tino laid a hand on his blond head and smiled gently. "It's not us your supposed to be saying sorry to, young man," he said.

"But you'll have to do it before dinner. We just put her down for a nap," Lukas quickly commented.

"Jet lag. First time too," Mathias added.

"And no nap around lunch either," Berwald piped up.

"What do we do until then?" Peter inquired, wiping his tears.

"… Monopoly?"

~!~

So the Nordics played about two hours of Monopoly in Tino and Berwald's room. Mathias and Tino were nearly bankrupt, Peter and Berwald were solid, and Lukas had Boardwalk and Park Place. Emil had joined them during the climax of the game after spending some of his time with Leon. He watched them, commenting sometimes to make fun of them, earning chuckles from the unoffended Nordics. He had eventually taken over his brother's job as banker because Lukas had started cheating surprisingly and giving less money than supposed.

"Come on, Sve! Trade me some cash and I'll give you two properties!" Mathias begged, pulling his puppy dog face and nearly getting on his knees. He was desperate to win against the Swedish man.

"No, I said this twenty times," Berwald answered, not even glancing at the Dane.

"Give up, Den. He's not going to give it to you," Tino comforted, sympathetically placing his hand on Mathias's shoulder. He was at a hundred dollars with six properties, none in the same section.

Peter laughed. "Poor, Uncle Den. Always losing at Monopoly."

"And he has a good banking system too," Emil commented.

"Unlike a certain cheating Norge," Mathias grumbled, pointedly glaring at his significant other, who shrugged as though it didn't leave a dent on his conscious. It most likely didn't.

There was a creak at the door, startling half of the group as a wave of small coughs reached their ears. They turned and found the last little Nordic looking up at them with drooping pale blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Her curly hair was even more messy than before when they attempted to control it and her shirt, which was actually one of Mathias's shirt, sagged over her shoulder and down her wrist.

" _Hej_ , _baby bjørn,"_ Mathias smiled, forgetting the game in favor of his daughter. He stood and picked her up, sitting back down and brushing her stray hair down.

Amalia still seemed to be waking up as she stared at her family blankly and looked at the Monopoly board a mess with cards, money, houses, and pieces. She was taking in account the money by each Nordic, the amount of property cards, and their placement. Just by the looks of it, she knew her daddy was winning and Papa was being a sore loser again.

"Papa sucks at this game," she commented in a whisper, voice groggy with sleep.

She made the others laugh, but Mathias sputtered, defending himself against his own daughter. She giggled at his reddening cheeks. She squeaked as she was plucked up from her papa's lap over to Lukas's. The Norge nuzzled his cheek into her cold one, earning a slew of raspberries in protest. She squirmed as his wandering fingers attacked her sides, giggles spewing from her mouth.

"Okay, okay, enough. We have to get ready for dinner or we'll be the only ones late. Again," Tino said exasperated as he stood, taking Peter's hand and guiding him to their room where his clothes were kept. Tino did not trust Peter to get himself dressed, nor did he trust Emil to help him out.

"The same goes for us, _baby bjørn,"_ Mathias said, both he and Lukas guiding the sleepy little girl to their room.

"Meet us down at the lobby in twenty," Tino called to them.

" _Ja!"_ Emil, Mathias, and Lukas replied, escaping to their rooms to dress in their formal wear.

~!~

All nations wore nice clothing for dinner because Francis had picked a fancy restaurant, as per usual. Clothing ranged from jeans and plaids shirts to suit pants and sweaters. Girls wore skirts and dresses, including Amalia whose knee length dress was a bright blue with thick shoulder sleeves.

As soon as the Nordics plus two entered, loud voices, arguments, discussions, and laughter met their ears. With over thirty representatives in a group, the whole restaurant shut down and allowed the nations their full attention, even extending their hours.

Amalia held close to Peter, hiding half behind him as her hand clenched his. He had promised her he wouldn't repeat his actions and kept her presence close.

"Oi! Sea!" an accented feminine voice called, emerging from between a conversing British man and Australian man. She had a black dress on with her favorite pink sweater on top, her shoes were silvery grey flats. Her curly, brown hair was pulled into pigtails.

"Wy!" Peter greeted, tugging his cousin along towards the imitating looking girl who looked around twelve or thirteen years old, only an inch or two shorter than Peter. "Did you get in trouble too?"

"Yea, Aussie wasn't too happy that Seb took us to the sweet shop without talking to him first," Wy, the Australian micronation, pouted, crossing her arms. Her eyes traveled to the small girl behind her friend. "Who's the pipsqueak?"

"Oh, this is Amalia, or Greenland. Uncle Nor and Uncle Den took her in a while ago. She's my cousin," Peter answered, trying to coax the tiny nation to say hi.

"Bit shy, ain't she?" Wy muttered, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't worry, she'll warm up soon. With all this ruckus…"

Peter chuckled. "True. Come on, let's go get a seat before we're separated," he urged, guiding the girls to a seat close to the Nordics, who had already taken their seats. Wy was fine sitting by them once Peter explained that Amalia needed to be around Mathias or Lukas. Not so accidentally, Ralph and James, otherwise known as Australia and New Zealand, sat across from Peter and Wy. The Australian man wouldn't let his eye off his little sister.

Once everyone was seated, four waiters took drink orders. The room was chaotic with much chatter, and a certain little girl didn't know how to handle any of it. Her daddy was sitting to her right, silently listening to whoever was speaking and Peter was to her left, arguing with the British man about being a nation. No one noticed her eyes teary and her body shaky, her distress was obvious. Except one.

A stick was suddenly weaved into her hair and behind her ear. She looked up and recognized the man with the Russian accent, his eyes and scarf a giveaway. A small smile graced his lips as he bent down to her height. "Hallo, little sunflower. Are you okay?" he asked gently.

Not wanting to be a nuisance like before, she nodded, moving her hand to her ear to feel a flower emerging as a hair piece. " _Ja,_ I'm fine, mis'er."

"Call me Mr. Ivan, da?" he suggested, his smile dropping slightly. "You don't seem alright .You seem very upset and confused."

Curly, brown locks shook as she changed her mind, her heart falling to her feet. "I want to go home. I don't like being here. It's _skræmmende_ ," she said, choking slightly on her words as tears and fear bubbled up in her throat. She was so scared and anxious that she hadn't been aware of her language change.

"Da, little sunflower. It can be quite scary for a small child like yourself," the Russian man commented, petting her head gently. "Is there anything I can do you for you?"

Amalia shook her head, sniffling back the frightening tears threatening to fall. Her heart shook as anxiety piled onto her chest. It was worse than the conference room where it was spacious and she was under the desk where no one could see her. But in that restaurant, she was exposed to every nations' eyes, every judgement they had, and every question they held. It was petrifying, more alarming than those cop shows she liked.

"I want my _tæppe_ ," she whimpered quietly, staring at his sparkling eyes.

"And what's that?" Ivan inquired, unwrapping his scarf and tugging it around her small neck. She drowned in the fabric, but closed her eyes and cuddled close. It smelled like a meadow, mixed with vanilla and a hint of alcohol.

"Her blanket!" Peter exclaimed, suddenly getting into the conversation as he noticed his cousin's discomfort, getting close to the two. Peter was another child that didn't fear the large nation and actually smiled genuinely up at the Russian. "She doesn't usually go anywhere without it!"

"Then where is it?" Ivan asked.

Peter's face fell as he looked guilty towards the little girl ."I think she left it on her bed in the hotel room," he answered, voice quieter than before.

Ivan's eyes softened slightly as he turned to the hiccuping, tiny nation. It would have been quite funny, to see Amalia next to big bad Russia, but with the current situation, it was more so sweet and concerning.

"Would you like to borrow my scarf for dinner?" he offered.

Amalia's bright blue eyes widened, glinting slightly with happiness. "B-But, Mr. Ivan, I've heard you really like your scarf! I can't take it," she refused.

"Da, but, little sunflower, you need it more than I do," the Russian man rebutted, smiling reassuringly.

Amalia's cheeks turned a light red. "Th-Thank you, Mr. Ivan. I-I'll give it back. I-I promise," she vowed.

Ivan hummed, ruffling her hair gently, before retreating to his seat between Yao and a blonde woman with overproportional sized breasts.

The baby nation watched him momentarily with sparkling, grateful eyes. A hand on her head caused her to turn to her daddy. He looked down at her questioningly. "Are you alright, _liten pingvin?"_

She nodded furiously, fingers curling between the scarf's knitted pattern. "I was _skræmt_ , but Mr. Ivan made me feel better! I'm not _skræmt_ anymore!"

Lukas looked worried and confused, but didn't interrogate any further. He pulled her into his lap and together they looked over the menu, which was in French. Mathias looked over and began translating for them. French was a language he picked up sometime during the eighteenth century. Amalia giggled as her papa's attempted to read, but couldn't actually speak the words. He only knew the words, not the pronunciation. Lukas was amused by the geeky nation, but worry still fought to the forefront of his mind.

Soon everyone received their drinks, mainly alcohol for the adults, and ordered their meals. The waiters placed sliced pieces of baguettes on the table as it would be a while until the meals were made. As the night continued on, Amalia's fear disappeared as the other nations welcomed her with opening arms. It had been so long since there was a new baby nation so everyone was quite excited and wanted to be part of little Greenland's life. Lukas was hesitant with how overprotective he was, but Tino and Mathias assured him she would be fine. No nation dared mess with the vikings or their wrath would be summoned

After their meal was finished, bubbly little Feliciano took Amalia's hands and brought her into an opening. The Italian began moving his feet, dancing to the festive music the restaurant played over ceiling speakers. Amalia giggled, following his lead and letting her feet take her away. She squealed with joy as he spun her around.

"Oi! _Fratello_ , let me show you how it's done," Lovino called, taking his brother's spot. He looked down at the little girl, whose grin widened at the man and her cheeks burned with exertion and excitement. "Ready, _bambina?"_

She nodded and found the elder Italian brother moving gracefully as she tagged along. Amalia smiled brightly and tried, but stumbled to follow Lovino's lead. He noticed her struggle, eventually picking her up onto his hip and swaying. She laughed loudly as he attempted to do a mini tango with her.

Moments later, Seborga joined and Feliciano began to dance with him. As the three Italians danced with the Greenlandic girl, Francis pulled Arthur to dance, Alfred tried to get Kiku, but the introvert Japanese man refused, and Gilbert coaxed Matthew to join him. Mathias tried to get Lukas to dance, but the Norwegian denied, instead watching their daughter have fun. Mathias deflated from the rejection, but then took his turn to dance with Amalia, which excited her to no end. Lukas couldn't help the smile that merely passed his lips, lasting only seconds.

Amalia soon tuckered herself out, leaning drowsily against Emil as he swayed with her on his hip. Leon stood in front of the white haired nation, chatting quietly to him. They conversed as Amalia began to slowly fall asleep. With Ivan's scarf being used as both a blanket and pillow, Mr. Puffin took the substitute of Amalia's polar bear, letting her cuddle him as she dozed off. He didn't quite mind the attention.

Emil excused himself and brought his little sister over to Lukas, who he handed the girl over to. "Long night for her," he commented.

Lukas hummed, resting his cheek against her head. "Indeed."

The Icelandic boy raised a simple brow, curious of his brother's attitude. "Everything alright, Nor?" he inquired, sitting down in the chair next to Lukas.

The Norwegian nodded. "Everything is fine. Only concerned for her."

"Why's that?"

Steel blue eyes turned to amethyst purple. "We had planned on sending her to a real school when she started growing again, but today she was scared around the others when she should've felt calm and safe. If she can't feel okay around people she knows, how can she be okay around strangers her age? Children are savages," he explained.

Emil scoffed a chuckle. "That they are. But things can change if you send her to school next fall, or next spring. She's also still adjusting from her previous home, Nor. If we were in situations like hers, you wouldn't recover in just less than a month. It'll be awhile. And she's just getting used to other nations. She's warmed up to Prussia and Spain fast, even Russia! You just have to have faith," he assured.

Lukas huffed. "Getting advice from my little brother. Didn't think the day would come."

Emil flushed red in anger and embarrassment. "Hey! I know some stuff you don't," he defended, crossing his arms.

"Uh huh, sure," the Norwegian nation nodded unconvinced. He stood, rocking a slightly fussy Amalia. "We should head back to the hotel. It's late and we haven't gotten much sleep today."

"For once, I agree with you. I'll go get the others," Emil offered, taking off.

Lukas rubbed his daughter's back gently, coaxing her deeper into sleep. However, she denied, lifting up her head and looking with droopy eyes at her daddy. She sat up, keeping Mr. Puffin between their bodies as she unwrapped the white scarf from around her neck.

"Daddy, I need to give this back to Mr. Ivan," she mumbled sleepily.

Lukas chuckled. "Alright, _liten pingvin_ ," he said, eyes scanning for the large man. He found the Russian with Yao, Alfred, and Kiku. He approached them, earning the American's attention immediately.

"Sup, Norge dude!" he greeted.

"Hello, America, Japan, China. Russia, I believe Amalia has something for you," the stoic man said.

The Greenlandic girl pushed her eyelids open more and handed over the precious scarf to its rightful owner. " _Tak_ , Mr. Ivan. I owe you," she said tiredly.

Ivan smiled gently, rubbing her cheek with his hand. "No need for that, little sunflower. It was simply the right thing to do for someone in need, da?"

Amalia giggled, leaning into the touch, before yawning greatly and becoming more sleepy.

"It seems the young one is very tired, Nor-san," Kiku commented.

"Indeed. Ice is gathering up everyone else before we head back to the hotel."

"Well, we'll see you tomorrow at the meeting," Yao said, bowing slightly in a manner of goodbye.

The Norwegian copied. " _Ha det_ ," he muttered, turning away and walking to the exit. He saw the others putting on their winter coats, Peter eagerly talking about this and that as Tino helped him with his coat. The only ones who seemed remotely tired were Tino and Emil, Berwald was and always will be neutral, while Mathias and Peter could stay up for hours on end.

"Here, Norge," Mathias offered, holding up the man's coat. Lukas raised an eyebrow at the manners, but said nothing as he slipped one arm into the sleeve then the other without disturbing Amalia in his arms.

Mathias chuckled, petting her head gently. He placed a kiss on her forehead, earning a coo from the girl in her sleep. "She's out already."

"All that dancing tired her out," Emil commented.

"I blame it on the Italians," Mathias said.

"Hey, technically it's a good thing. Gets her to bed faster," Lukas argued. "She would've never gone to sleep without releasing that energy."

"True," the two said in unison, exiting the restaurant with Tino, Berwald, and Peter leading them. It wasn't a long walk back to the hotel, but with the dropped temperatures, it was too cold to walk that far. They hailed two cabbies; Berwald, Peter, and Tino going in one and Emil, Lukas, Mathias, and Amalia going in the other. Once they made it back to the hotel, they joined again in the elevator, talking about idle things such as the World Meeting and their topics. Peter wasn't so happy about the topic since he couldn't comment or talk at all, so he changed the subject quickly onto what was going on for Christmas.

At their designated floor, they walked out and to their rooms, bidding goodnight to each other as they separated once more. Tino drew a small bath for Peter since he had been sweating something fierce while dancing and playing, while Berwald and Emil changed into nightclothes and went to bed. Mathias helped his drowsy daughter change into her pajamas at the same time Lukas was changing.

"Papa?"

Mathias chuckled at Amalia's sleepy voice, high pitched as a whisper. "Yes, _baby bjørn?"_

Amalia yawned, fisting her long pajama sleeves with her arms up, silently asking him to pick her up. "Will you sing to me, Papa?"

The Dane was quite surprised she had asked him to sing a lullaby to her. Normally, she would request Lukas to do it, but this time she was asking him. He hesitated, trying to remember a song he used to sing to either Emil or Peter when they were younger. Peter used to have Mathias sing to him when he babysat the micronation, but now, he was out like a light and it had been awhile since Mathias last took care of him.

" _Nu tændes der stjerner på himlens blå_

 _halvmånen løfter sin sabel_

 _jeg våger, at ikke de slemme mus_

 _skal liste sig op i din snabel._

 _Sov sødt, lille Jumbo, og visselul_

 _nu bliver skoven så dunkel_

 _nu sover tante, den gamle struds_

 _og næsehornet, din onkel."_

When the Danish man was about to sing the second verse, he looked down and saw his little girl already fast asleep again. He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her head before setting her down in bed. He pulled the covers up and clicked off the lamps on the side table. The only sources of light were from the window and the bathroom.

"You haven't sung since Emil was a child."

Mathias turned and saw Lukas leaning against the wall just outside the bathroom. He gave the shorter man a crooked smirk. "Actually, when Peter first lived with Sve and I babysat, I used to sing to him. Not that song, but others," he answered.

"And you picked that one for her?" Lukas inquired.

Mathias shrugged. "She's my _lille Jumbo_ ," he chuckled. "Come on, Norge. Let's get to bed. We have a longer day tomorrow."

The Norwegian man sighed, clicking off the bathroom light and shuffling towards their shared bed. "Blame it on the American."

The Dane chuckled again, stripping until he was left in his t-shirt and boxers. He shuffled under the covers and, when Lukas was tucked underneath, he grabbed his significant other's waist and drew him close to his chest. Lukas huffed, but relented and curled up to sleep.

Mathias watched him for a moment, before placing a sweet kiss to the pale man's cheek. " _Jeg elsker dig,_ Norge _,"_ he whispered into Lukas's ear.

The Norge shivered, cowering closer into the larger male's warmth. He hummed. " _Jeg elsker deg også_ , Den," was his quiet sleepy reply.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Norwegian_

Du trenger å lære eller vil du ikke få noe - You need to learn or you won't get anywhere

En dag, daddy, jeg ønsker å spille med Sea - One day, Daddy, I want to play with Sea

Ha det - Goodbye

Jeg elsker deg også, Den - I love you too, Den

 _Danish_

skræmmende - Scary

The Lullaby is called the Elephant's Lullaby:

Now the stars ignite in the blue sky  
The half-moon raises its sable  
I keep watching, so the bad mouse  
Will not sneak into your trunk  
Sleep tight, little Jumbo, rock-a-bye  
Now the wood is getting dark  
Now aunty, the old ostrich, is sleeping  
And so is your uncle, the rhinoceros.

Jeg elsker dig, Norge - I love you, Norge

* * *

 **I've officially done art on Amalia! So that's basically what she looks like in the cover photo. I've done a few scenes. Two have been like aw/sad and the other two are just plain adorable.**

 **But anyway!**

 **So the last chapter I've completely finished is 10, so 11 and so on will take awhile to post. Apologies, I've just lost touch with my characters and need some time to go back to them.**

 **It's okay tho! I'll get them out there as soon as possible. I have to get Christmas and New Years done before the year, so you'll have those done before 2018 comes around.**

 **Enjoy my lovelies!**


	10. December 20 & 22

_Little Nordic_

 **December 20 & 23**

* * *

Amalia was very anxious for the holiday. She had been planning out their day from the time they wake up to the time they go to sleep. She was overly excited to be celebrating Christmas for the first time. Though, she didn't know if the Nordics have traditions, but she remembered Emil saying they only spent a few hours together at Tino's house for Christmas, then be on their merry way. Amalia didn't like that idea, and now that they lived together, she could spend the whole day with them.

She had also been informed that most of the countries get together for the Christmas dinner, which was usually held in America, and that their Christmas day at home would be cut in half. She was slightly disappointed, wanting to spend the whole day with family, but understood that it was more for obligation than the want to go. Apparently, it wasn't pretty sometimes, and Alfred went a bit overboard on some things.

The Greenlandic girl had gotten gifts for her family members, with the help of Lovino and Feliciano. They were the only two non-dangerous nation that could watch her for a few hours as they went Christmas shopping. It turned out that Feliciano was a real help with gifts and Lovino knew a lot about fashion, for he bought her a new outfit for the Christmas party. They even treated her to an hour in the art store and, though he claimed he wasn't as good as his brother, Lovino helped her pick out art supplies as their Christmas gift to her. She said she didn't need them, but they argued that Christmas was the time of giving and they wanted her to grow in her magnificent gift. She decided to surprise them with a gift of her own art from the supplies she got from them.

And as Amalia grew restless, her habits seemed to be worse. She wasn't so hungry, sleeping was filled with nightmares, and she didn't seem to want to do anything but color. She usually loved it when Peter asked her to play in the snow with him, or when Emil offered to watch a movie for the night while everyone else was gone. She denied both.

Mathias was greatly worried by his daughter's actions, so one day when it was his turn to watch her, he told her to come with him. She hesitated, but toddled over and grasped his hand. They went through the halls and up the stairs. Amalia stumbled over her questions of 'Where?' and he answered with a beaming 'You'll see!'

As they approached the attic, Amalia noticed the lack of dust and spiders that her attic once had. That had always been a safe haven to her. The only place in the house her kidnappers did not look for her. Now that she was loved and cared for, with an actual room, she no longer needed to climb those steps.

Mathias went first up the stairs, the largest grin on his face. Excitement gleaming in his eyes as he glanced back at her confused face. As soon as the little girl took that last step, she realized why her papa was so enthusiastic about the attic. The whole floor was covered in block-like pieces creating houses, structures, construction zones, government buildings, every single building you'd find in town. There was even a little area for a few farm houses. The only way to get through to the other side was a mat separating it right down the middle.

Amalia took cautious steps forward, nearly tripping a few times if Mathias hadn't been right behind her to catch her. She looked with bright, amazed, blue eyes at the work done with a simple child's toy. She had heard of Legos before from Peter, but had never seen one because Tino thought she was still too young. With the few empty cardboards boxes labeled 'Legos' she knew her papa was a bit of a collector.

"Papa," she whispered, bending down to look at a few of the tiny block people. "They're so cool."

Mathias chuckled, kneeling down next to the little nation. " _Ja_. This is what I do in my free time when I'm not around Norge, or you. Or when I used to get bored, I'd come up here and build. It's like a safe place for me."

Amalia looked up to him with wide eyes and a small gasp. "Me too! I-I'd come to the attic since-since Ingrid and Jacob didn't know I was there. But it's okay 'cause now I'm here with you."

Mathias gave her a crooked smile, ruffling her hair before turning back to the Legos. He explained that some had sentimental meaning behind them, others he got when he was bored out of his mind and needed something to do. She asked since the mansion was abandoned for so long, how come the attic and his collection looked fine. He answered truthfully, saying he visited the mansion a few times a week when he was having a bad day and none of the other Nordics could help him. He had kept the mansion messy since no one used it and occupied the attic since no one entered it. She admired his intelligence.

"I was going to wait until Christmas to give you this, but it seems you need something to occupy that little brain of yours," Mathias said, going behind some boxes and rustling things around. Curiously, Amalia tiptoed over and watched her papa struggle. He straightened, coming back up with a rainbow cone hat crooked on his head, earning a laugh from his daugher. He gave her a sheepish grin before putting it back and treading out from behind the boxes. He knelt down and handed her the rectangular box. She gasped and her eyes sparkled with delight and excitement. The box was a Lego set; a simple two story home that separated to access the inside and held many pieces of brick furniture. It included characters that looked awfully familiar, along with two pets.

"I had it specially made for you. It's all of us, with Hanata and Mr. Puffin, as the Lego people. I thought maybe we could build it together," Mathias explained shyly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "The Christiansen family was more than happy to make me one of these, especially when I told them it was for my daughter. I used to be best friends with the founder."

Amalia giggled up at her papa. "Was he a nice man, Papa?" she inquired.

"One of the greatest men I have ever had the fortune of knowing, Ams," the Danish man said, smiling fondly. "Now! Shall we start working on this puzzle?"

For the next few hours, Mathias and Amalia worked on their little Lego house. It was mainly Mathias with Amalia playing with the characters, but the girl assisted when her papa couldn't find a piece or something was complicated. The Danish man was proud that the nation he adopted as his own was far more intelligent than he had been at such a small age. She had a fast working mind when it came to solving problems, which would be helpful in her older days.

"Papa, why does Uncle Sve look happy?" Amalia inquired about the Lego character. She was looking at them all when she found that Berwald's lips were up in a smile when they were usually straight with lack of emotion. It was a bit odd to her

"Because one of the current owner's wanted to make fun of Sve. He knows how Sve can be so he wanted him to be happy for once, he said to me, but I still don't get it," Mathias answered with a shrug.

"Oh," she said simply, then glanced at the instructions when she noticed her papa having some difficulties.

They finished just as they heard Lukas and Tino call for them. Mathias quickly adjusted the house around his own city, while Amalia put away the instructions and hid the box. The former pointed at his daughter's face once they paused. "Don't tell Norge," he commanded and she nodded without hesitation, remembering that it was supposed to be a surprise. He picked her up on his hip and rushed down the attic towards the foyer. They found the others taking off their coats and shoes.

"Hello, Den," Tino greeted cheerfully, helping Peter take off his coat.

" _Hej_ , Fin. How was your day?" he replied back.

"Fine. Minus the fact that Sealand nearly destroyed valuable documents," the Finnish man said, pointing a glare towards his own adopted child. Peter shrunk back.

"I said sorry. It was a just an accident!" he defended.

"An accident that nearly made Mr. Poland mad. Again," Berwald commented.

Mathias moved his attention to Lukas, who was in a heated conversation with Emil. They were arguing, if Emil's reddened face wasn't evidence enough. The Danish man saw his daughter tilt her head to the side questioning.

"Papa, why is Ice not happy?" Amalia inquired naively, fisting his shirt in her fists.

"Something must've happened today. Don't worry, Ams. It happens all the time," he reassured, rubbing his thumb against her pale arm comfortingly. However, the statement didn't convince the little nation otherwise. She didn't see them flustered or angry often, especially not towards one another. It shook her to the core.

"Come on, Sea and Amma," Tino said, smiling gently. "Let's start getting dinner ready, _Okei?"_

Peter took his surrogate mother's hand and Mathias put Amalia down so she could hold Tino's other. She glanced back at her parents and brother to find Emil glaring at Lukas and Lukas conversing with Mathias. The Danish man seemed to be trying to control the situation and calm them both down.

Amalia turned back around and her eyes fell to the floor as she shuffled into the kitchen behind her short uncle. Tino saw her depressed look and tried to excite her with a bit of cooking fun, but she didn't partake. Lukas, Mathias, and Emil were caught up in country issues and, usually, they didn't bring this home, but Emil was pissed off at Lukas for one reason or another and couldn't let it go.

"Uncle Fin, may I go upstairs, _vær venlig?"_ she murmured, tugging on his sleeve as she stood on her stool.

He smiled sadly and rubbed her head gently. "Of course. I'll bring you dinner, _okei?"_

The little nation nodded and slid off her chair, picking up her blanket and toddling out of the kitchen. Tino sighed helplessly and felt arms wrap around his waist from behind. He didn't need to look back to know it was Berwald.

"It'll be okay. They will figure it out," the Swedish man assured.

Tino watched Peter run around the kitchen getting ingredients and whatnot, humming a small tune to himself. He gave a small amused smile and leaned back into his partner.

"I hope so."

* * *

Amalia heard banging and cursing from behind the door Papa said she shouldn't enter if she didn't want to be scarred. After his warning, he earned a smack from Lukas on his head and gave a playful chuckle. Lukas simply warned her not to go down, unless she hears something suspicious. A boom and shouting seemed suspicious to her.

Pushing herself up with a groan, she slipped down from the couch and made her way over to the door, ignoring the TV show that was playing on the TV. On her tiptoes, she turned the handle and looked into the doorway. Icy eyes widened as she saw a dark staircase and the bottom was illuminated by purple and green light.

Swallowing thickly with a pounding, anxious heart, Amalia gripped her blanket and took hold of the railing, shuffling her feet down the stairs one by one. Her steps were light, but her heart felt heavy as fear overtook her body. The place was dark and scary, shadows creeping on the walls, and sounds ricocheting through the room.

Once the little Greenlandic girl made it to the bottom of the staircase, she no longer felt afraid, her eyes widening in awe at the scene before her. Potions of all colours were glowing, some having items floating in them. Tables were against the walls and in the middle of the room. One wall was a bookshelf holding only books ranging from the tiniest of novels to the fattest of books. Tiny fluorescent creatures flew through the air, voices high pitched and low as a whisper. Three flew close as though they were chatting together, before zooming close to the baby nation and curiously observing her.

Amalia stared with large, shimmering eyes, trying to keep up with the creatures' movements. Once they paused and released a soft awe, leaning against each other, Amalia realized that they were fairies with flapping transparent wings, matching hair and clothes too. They wore dresses of different designs from pointy-hemmed and short sleeved to long, flowy and sweetheart neckline. The three surrounding her were red, blue, and white, reminding her of Daddy and big brother's flags. The fairies giggles, the blue one watching as the red one sat on Amalia's shoulders and the white one was playing through the girl's hair. Amalia giggled along, observing them in astonishment.

Their moment was interrupted as another clash reached the tiny country's ears. She jumped, startled at the noise, and the fairies shrieked, hiding behind Amalia. They heard coughing and swearing, smoke rushing to the ceiling.

"Master isn't happy," the red fairy squeaked.

"He's been trying all morning!" the blue fairy exclaimed.

"But he's unsuccessful," the white fairy muttered sadly.

Amalia heard their words, cautiously stepping forward, despite the little creatures' protests to not intervene or disturb their master. She turned the corner of a table in the center and found her daddy at a table on the wall with his back to her and his shoulders tensed painfully, arms on either side of him as all weight was placed on the appendages down on the table. He wore a black cloak with his hood down.

"D-Daddy?"

Lukas's shoulder relaxed at the familiar voice, his stance calming. He slowly turned to her, his face stoic like a stone and covered in soot with a few slowly healing cuts. She noticed how harsh his eyes seemed, gulping and taking a step back. His cobalt eyes softened slightly at the action as he walked up to her and knelt down. She looked like a cornered pup about to be caught by the pound, backed into a corner. It made his heart freeze.

"Why are you done here, _liten pingvin?"_ he questioned gently.

Amalia blinked away the tears nearly appearing in her eyes. "I-I heard something. A bang, s-so I didn't know," she answered hesitantly.

Lukas's expression smoothed out more at the explanation. She was simply curious and worried for him. He had left her upstairs when she fell asleep for her nap and she must've woken up at his last attempt at a certain formula. He worried her.

" _Jeg beklager, liten pingvin,"_ he whispered, brushing his hand through her hair comfortingly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

She gave a wry smile and leaned into his touch. It was then that he noticed the three fairies hiding behind his daughter's shoulders. "I see you've met the troublemakers," he teased.

The fairies gasped offendedly, red and blue putting their hands on their hips. White, being ever so slow, looked at them and followed their actions. Amalia giggled at their silliness.

"Amalia, this is Freja, Sassa, and little Kari. They're all sisters," Lukas introduced as the little sprites flew around his head and nuzzled his cheek or fingers.

Amalia's eyes were enlarged with fascination. "How did you met them?"

Lukas gave a slight turn of his lips. He shuffled until he was comfortable sitting on the ground, legs criss-crossed. Amalia took the opportunity and sat in his lap, leaning against his chest.

"Many long years ago, before I met Ice, or Fin, or even Den and Sve, I was alone. There was nothing but forest for miles and I was a small child with no idea what was happening. All I knew was my name. Much like yourself. Then I discovered these three and a troll. Unlike me, they were ancient creatures. They were around during the first days of the world, when all there was were small tribes that fended for themselves and hate nothing but meat. Freja is the eldest sister, keeping track of her younger siblings and making sure they were safe. Sassa is smart, tactical, and is one devious pranker when provoked."

"What about Kari? You called her little," Amalia inquired, not meaning to interrupt her daddy with her curiosity, but a child will be a child.

Lukas huffed a laugh. "Yes, because Kari is the youngest and smallest. She was born a few hundred years before I came about, but a few younger than her sisters. They don't mind however, despite the age difference, they care for her no matter what. Kari is a little slow, but mischievous and naive," he explained.

Amalia tilted her head to look up at him. "So she's like me? I'm much, _much_ younger than you and Papa, and big brother is still much older than me by a lot. But you love me even so!"

The Norwegian hand ran through her curly locks and she sighed at the soft, comforting touch. "Yes, that's true. She is much like you. Perhaps you two will become best friends."

"You think so, Daddy?" Amalia asked excitedly, earning a larger smile from him.

"Yes. I do believe so, _liten pingvin_."

They fell silent as they watched the three fairies play and talk around them. It was short for Amalia remembered why she was down in the basement with her dirty-faced father. "Daddy, they said that you've been trying something. What have you been trying?"

Lukas sighed, tossing her onto his hip and moving towards the boiling cauldron that blew up moments ago. "Sometimes, I like to make random potions. On occasion, they can be as easy as counting. Other times I need a challenge so I find the hardest potion in my books. This is one of them, but I do not know what I am doing wrong," he answered her, looking over the ingredients and chants.

"Did you add deteration?" she asked, leaning over to see purple liquid inside.

Lukas raised a brow, bumping her up onto his hip as she began to slide. "Deteration?"

" _Ja!"_ Her icy blue eyes lit up. "Uncle Tino said it comes from the heart and if you really want to do something, you have to be that to get it."

The Norwegian father chuckled, ruffling her hair. "You mean determination, and it's not a physical thing. There's no way to add determination to a potion.

"Oh," Amalia said, a bit dejected. "Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out, Daddy. You always do!"

" _Takk_ , _liten pingvin_. Now, let's get you upstairs and into the bath," he said, turning and waking up the stairs with the three fairy not far behind.

Amalia whined. "No! I'm clean, Daddy! I didn't go out to play in the mud like Hanata or Sea," she defended.

"You haven't bathed since Ice took care of you. You are in dire need of a bath," he answered, resulting in a fussy child. He swung her over his shoulder and held her upside down.

"Daddy!" the Greenlandic girl squealed, giggling uncontrollably as her tiny fists pounding into his back. It didn't hurt with how little she was. He hoped Mathias didn't get the idea of putting her through karate or jitsu anytime soon. Then it would be bad. "Put me back! I'll-I'll take the bath, just put me back!"

"I'll put you down once we're in the bathroom," he compromised.

Amalia kept giggling, swinging on her daddy's back, watching the world go by backwards and upside down. The fairies laughed, observing the girl and flying around her. After ceasing her own cackles, Amalia huffed, crossing her arms and trying to swing back up Lukas's shoulders, but she was too weak and gave up. She fell submissive to the ever horrifying bathtime.

After bath time, which was nearly an hour long of Lukas trying to keep his daughter in the bathtub rather than running around the house in the nude, Amalia changed into fuzzy, polka dot pants that came to her toes and one of Emil's sweatshirts he had gotten from one of his nation's universities. The sleeves were long so Lukas rolled them up until the tips of her fingers poked out. She giggled, swigging her arms around in amusement. Her daddy rolled his eyes and scooped her up into his arms, making his way to the couch.

They watched TV, but they ignored it instead to talk because Amalia was filled with sudden questions and wouldn't get off the topic of Christmas. He answered her patiently, keeping her on his lap with her squirmy legs around his waist. She picked at his shirt sometimes, leaning her forehead on his chest or playing with his hair. It also seemed like she was analyzing every single feature of his with her glistening eyes bouncing across his face.

The others came home and, surprisingly, they found the two in the kitchen surrounded by baking supplies with said supplies on their clothing, on their skin, and in their hair. Amalia was giggling on her stool, icing a cookie with an icer filled with lavender icing. Lukas was in the same position, sitting on a stool with the tiniest smile ever, icing a cupcake with light pink icing.

"Well, there goes dinner," Tino commented, slightly deflated and pleased because he had no idea what he was going to do for the meal.

"Looks like we're ordering out!" Mathias said excitedly, making Berwald go over to the home phone and begin calling takeout.

"Hey, Nor, wasn't Ams supposed to take a bath?" Emil questioned, nabbing a cookie and giving it to Mr. Puffin. Amalia glared at the bird for eating the cookie whole and because she still wasn't over him eating all her candy, _again._

Father and daughter shared a look, before the younger's eyes widened and the elder's eyebrows rose. "Not another one!" Amalia exclaimed, pouting slightly.

Mathias rounded the counter and stood behind his daughter, looking to his lover. "You already gave her one?"

Lukas shrugged. "We hadn't planned on baking. Amalia was asking about Christmas and I said baking was a tradition amongst many households, so she wanted to bake," he answered.

Tino's ocean blue eyes widened looking at rack upon rack of the sweet treats ranging from cookies to cupcakes to truffles. "There's has to be over three dozen made! Of each!" he exclaimed in disbelief, picking up a peanut butter cookie.

"Daddy made it so four trays could be in the oven at the same time, which made things bake faster. We didn't have to wait," Amalia said, grinning widely. She turned with the child friendly knife full of icing on it and stuck in on her papa's nose. She laughed at his shocked face before squealing in surprise when he pushed his nose into her powder covered cheek.

"I gave her a bath earlier. It's your turn," Lukas told the Danish male, who widened his eyes and turned to his innocent looking child. She sat smiling as she kicked her legs back and forth.

Mathias sighed, slumping. "I'm going to need reinforcements."

The others dispersed from the kitchen, minus Peter who was next to his cousin munching on a vanilla, green iced cupcake. Mathias looked incredulously around the room, before growling. He looked to Amalia again and found her trying to lick the icing off her cheek by reaching with her tongue.

The older nation chuckled, picking her up on his hip and walking to the bathroom. Peter followed behind, eager to help his uncle as he had been the only one to be part of his reinforcements to which Mathias was grateful. However, teasing her papa and daddy, Amalia sat perfectly still as she played with a few toys with Peter sitting next to Mathias outside of the tub. With her occupied, the Dane was able to wash the powder, peanut butter, and dough from her short hair. How she managed to get it all up there, he would never know.

* * *

 _Translations_

 _Norwegian_

Jeg beklager - I'm sorry

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 **I wanted to give you guys a little chapter before I probably go MIA for a little while because my 1st quarter is ending and ALL, I mean ALL, of my teachers are giving me hours of homework I don't wanna do.**

 **Okay, so please ! review because I love reading them and some of you guys are so cute and make my grey days better. Thank you so much!**

 **Bye babes x**

* * *

 ** _Message Update_**

 **OKAY LISTEN if I mess up in any translations DON'T BE AN ASS I SPEAK ENGLISH AND SOME SPANISH.**

 **Just tell me what I got wrong. Don't say anything else Just 'English - Other Lanuage' and I will immediately change it. No arguing.**

 **I've gotten a few unwanted comments saying 'Not to be rude' (which means it's rude) and only one that was interpreted as a nice correction.**

 **Just tell me the translations.**

 **Thank you**

 **Bye babes xx**


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